


God's Choice

by wasserplane



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Romance, F/F, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Fix-It, Gen, Minor Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring, Multi, Nonbinary My Unit | Byleth, Plot focused, Politics, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, no Byleth romance until after Timeskip, spoilers for all routes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 53,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26622970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasserplane/pseuds/wasserplane
Summary: Byleth's been thrown back in time again and again, completing all three routes and siding with all three houses. This time, they've been throw back one last time, given the chance to finish the war before it starts--or, start it for their own purposes. They look at the pieces, and motives, and with the power of a god, piece together their ideal world. Their Golden Route.More tags will be added as fic progresses.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth, My Unit | Byleth & Claude von Riegan
Comments: 80
Kudos: 194
Collections: Quality Fics





	1. Rewind

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my take on the "Golden" route. This is a Byleth that mostly agrees with Edelgard's ideals.
> 
> I'll be aiming at updating once every 2 weeks.
> 
> NO Professor/Student will happen, Byleth ships will happen after the Timeskip!

_The white beast lays on the ground, cleaved in two._

_You had done it. Created your ideal world, for the third time. Three different worlds, three ideals, three leaders. This time with Edelgard. A glance at her, and she stands as tall as she ever has. The weight still rests on her shoulders, and it will be a long time yet before it finally leaves._

_But, you prefer that to war. It finally sinks in--the war was over. Your opposition was dead, but the victory was like the city itself--burnt to ash and smoke, only iron and blood left behind. Still, these ashes marked the end of fighting. You feel tired, worn, but a small ball of relief starts forming in your chest. It was over. A strange feeling settles through you, growing stronger until it is white hot, turning into sharp pain._

_You collapse, clutching your chest._

_She rushes over, but you only numbly feel her touch. What was happening? It felt so intense. Like pain, but purifying. Like you could breathe. Like you could feel…_

_Everything._

_You look up at her, your eyesight blurry. Shapes move and condense--red, golden, amethyst. You blink a few times, trying desperately to focus._

_And then--it’s clear. Sharper than before, and so vivid. Were the reds always so red? Was the fire always this hot? Was this pain always this sharp? Your life sparks hot and cold, and your mind is surrounded by the sensation of it all._

_“Professor!” she says, and her words ground you. Your look at her, and you start to smile, to really smile._

_“El,” you whisper, certain that you’ve finally found your nirvana, after trying again and again. You were free. You could move on. Your heart..._

_You can’t help but wonder if that meant that you had somehow killed Sothis. Or had she died five years ago?_

_Did that mean that this was finally the end? No longer graced with the powers of a god, surely that meant that this had to be the end. No more reliving the war. You were free._

_“Don’t let go of me,” you tell Edelgard, just in case it would somehow happen again. She gives a laugh, as if even suggesting she might was ridiculous._

_A wave of relief passes through you. It was ridiculous. You weren’t going back, not again._

_Still, you wish that it didn’t have to always end this way. If only…_

_If only there was a way to save all of them._

\---

Byleth wakes up with a start, sitting straight up.

They slowly blink their eyes, adjusting to the low light. What time was it? Where were they? Wait, were they in bed?

“Hey. Time to wake up.” A familiar voice says. Jeralt heads into the room, but stops in his tracks, staring at them.

They stare back. Jeralt? Wait. No.

No. They were back _here_. Back in Remire.

Again.

No, no, no, _no_! If only they hadn’t had to wonder that! They should’ve just sucked it up and moved on. Who cared about the other students?! Byleth just wanted to live a peaceful life!

But they did care. So, so much.

Arg! They really had gotten so soft!

“Well. Nevermind. For once, you woke up on your own,” Jeralt jokes dryly. “Try to hurry and get ready, okay? Everyone is waiting...” He trails off at the look on Byleth’s face. “You okay? Was it that dream again?”

Byleth blinks, staring blankly for a moment, before they nod slowly. They had to pull themselves back to the present. Past. Whatever. Sothis damn it. It had been a long time since they had that dream. Since then, they’d experienced so much. Being back here again, it couldn’t help but feel like all of that had just been a dream.

“I had a dream that the Empire went to war against the Kingdom.” Byleth says softly, looking up to gauge Jeralt’s reaction.

Jeralt raises his eyebrows, letting out a slow whistle. “Well. That’s a cheery thought..” he says, before giving Byleth a clap on the shoulder. “C’mon. Mercenaries like us just need to focus on battle. Don’t worry about the big picture.” 

Oh, how Byleth wished that were the case. They wonder what would happen if they left as a simple mercenary. Or left Fódlan completely. They could probably team up with Shamir and just get out of there. 

But their friends… the students…

Byleth was starting to get a headache. Having a moral backbone was such a bother. 

They stand up to get ready, as a member of Jeralt’s mercenary band bursts in the room. Yeah, yeah. It was going exactly the same as before. Those three were right outside Jeralt’s house. Bylet was just glad for the excuse to swing a sword. There’s definitely some tension they could get rid of.

\---

They follow Jeralt outside, giving a quick glance to the three colorful people standing in front of them. _Sothis_ , they looked so young. Byleth always got a shock during this meeting, but they’d soon get used to the youthful appearances.

Byleth only sort of listens. It’s the fourth time they’re hearing it, after all, although this time you pick up something that makes you notice. Jeralt’s hesitation. You wonder--if the village hadn’t been in danger, would he have helped? How much did Jeralt want to avoid his past of Garreg Mach?

Oh, well. It always goes this way. Never any different.

Byleth prepares for battle, itching to hit something. And maybe show off a bit. It wasn’t easy to get Edelgard’s respect, and it would be better to do it earlier, than later. 

Edelgard. She looked exactly the same, except younger. It really hadn’t been that long since they saw her last.

It feels like forever since they’ve seen Claude. As for Dimitri...

It hurts to remember the last time they had seen Dimitri. He was so regal, serious, and full of righteous anger. Byleth was proud of him, but also a little melancholy. He was little more than Rhea’s puppet, set to die as a way to buy time while she laid waste to his capital city. No, Byleth preferred to remember the Dimitri from the life before, where he made his own path and built his own future. 

Yes, that had been a happy ending, too, but the one they liked the least. There were too many loose threads, especially after what Byleth learned when they sided with Claude--

Claude. Byleth felt like he was the key to this puzzle. Their dying wish, so to speak.To make sure all of them stayed alive, somehow.

“--leth?” Jeralt says, and Byleth snaps to attention. 

“Yes, sir.” they say automatically. “Let’s proceed.”

Jeralt stares at them for a moment, before shrugging and heading onwards.

\---

The battle is predictable. Even with the house leaders’ limited abilities, the fight was a piece of cake--no doubt due to Byleth, tearing through the battlefield like a madman. Their strength was back to what it was at the beginning, but the technique, the way they moved was something that could only be honed through years of practice. It was catharsis, tearing through those whose deaths were deserved, with no second thought.

They hoped the house leaders were watching. It was a little fun, showing off.

The bandit leader--Byleth thinks his name was Koster, or something--struggles to stand up after being knocked down.

Oh. This part. 

He starts yelling something incoherent before charging.

This was the part where you saw Soth--

Sothis!

Excitedly, Byleth dives in front of Edelgard to take the blow.

\---

“ _What in the world is wrong with you_?!” Sothis screeches.

Byleth stands in that place--their headspace, they suppose, although it looked exactly like the throne room underground that Rhea had shown them. They stand and stare at Sothis, a small smile creeping on their face.

“You’re alive!” Byleth cries. They wonder if it would be okay to touch her. Hug her, maybe? Byleth had become a lot more touchy since integrating into Garreg Mach. Between… well, Sylvain in general, Hilda, and of course--who could forget Dorothea’s impromptu touch therapy classes--although, maybe it was just an excuse for her to hug Byleth and Bernadetta. And, sometimes Edelgard. 

Not that you all didn’t enjoy it. It really opened Byleth’s eyes, honestly.

And now, they really wanted to hug Sothis.

“We won’t be for long, if you keep acting like that!” Sothis scolds, folding her arms and peering down at Byleth. “Do you _want_ to die?”

Byleth’s smile doesn’t fade. “No.” they say.

Sothis’ expression softens. She sighs. “Of all the humans to be so intertwined with…” she laments.

“Okay. Let’s turn back time, right?”

She blinks at Byleth with her large eyes, peering at them for a moment. “...That is a good idea.” she says, eventually, opening a glowing glyph in front of her. “This can be done. We-- _I_ will turn back the hands of time. Drift through the flow of time, and find the answers you seek...”

And then the world twists, moving backwards exactly to Byleth’s control. They move the bandit leader back, planning their next move. They probably shouldn’t kill him, right? They never did before. It didn’t seem to have any adverse effects. At best, it gave the students a little extra training.

Byleth flings themselves at him, snatching his axe with a graceful swing of their sword, tossing it behind them.

_Really hope that didn’t hit Claude._

The bandit leader--Byleth swears his name starts with a K--stares in shock for a moment, before taking off running.

Byleth takes a moment to do that intimidating shrug of theirs. They know they did it every time, but they kind of thought it made them look cool. 

Jeralt rides up next to Byleth. “Since when did you--

Before Jeralt could finish the thought, Alois enters the scene, barging in as loud as ever.

“The Knights of Seiros are here!” he announces loudly, before his eyes rest on Jeralt. Alois wastes no time in making his way over to Byleth’s dad.

\---

It was decided, as it always would be. Byleth would be going to Garreg Mach. Perhaps it fate. As Rhea had said, maybe it was the flow of time that brought them there. And brought them it had. Over, and over again.

“I believe Jeralt said your name was Byleth, yes?” A voice says, popping Byleth’s bubble of internal monologue. “You were absolutely incredible during that fight.”

Byleth looks over to see Dimitri looking at them with a glowing expression, as if they were an angel. No, a little something else. They had gotten fairly good at reading Dimitri’s expression, but it still wasn’t easy.

“Yes. Someone as talented as you should put your skills to good use. I would like to recruit you for the Adrestian Empire, if you’d be interested.” Edelgard says. She watches Byleth, studying them. The more they knew her, the more flattering it was. She never had to do this to someone unimpressive.

“Well, that certainly was to the point. I was actually hoping you would put your skills to use in the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. I am,” He stands up straighter. “I’m the crown prince, you see.”

Claude gives a laugh. “Aren’t you two quick? Normally you’d take someone out to dinner, first!” he says. 

Edelgard rolls her eyes. Dimitri looks mildly embarrassed.

“But, since all the cards are on the table--wouldn’t you rather work for the Leicester Alliance, with me? I’m way better company, promise.” Claude adds, offering a hand. “Well? Which one would you choose?”

This question. This absolutely meaningless question. Byleth is so tired of it. Why answer normally, anymore?

“Which will pay the most?” they ask, raising an eyebrow.

Dimitri blinks. Claude strokes his nonexistent beard. Byleth thinks the gesture looks much better when he actually has one. “Oof, that’s a tough one. I can give you a few offers, but I think for the absolute best one, you’d need to come with me to Leicester.”

Edelgard has a competitive glint in her eye. She opens her mouth to say something--you’re sure it’s going to be an absurd number, she was never wanting for money, after all--but before she can say anything, Jeralt raises his voice.

“Here we are. Garreg Mach.” he says, glancing over at Byleth. “This is only the first wall, into the town. We’ll be at the monastery itself in no time.”

Byleth nods, looking up, and pretending to ignore the three students stealing glances at them.

“I’ll go ahead and report in. I’m sure the Archbishop will want to see you, as well.” Alois says, before turning to the three students. “You three! Go and check in with your houses. I’m sure they’ve all been worried about you!” he says, clapping Dimitri on the shoulder.

Dimitri jumps, but Alois doesn’t notice.

“Yes. Thank you.” Edelgard says, before turning to Byleth. “Don’t forget my offer.” 

She takes her leave. Claude takes a few steps in the same direction, shooting Byleth a wink before and walking forward. Dimitri follows after, glancing one last time at Byleth.

There’s finally a moment of silence between Jeralt and Byleth, until he takes a long sigh.

“Guess we need to talk to Rhea, huh?” Jeralt grumbles, sounding none too pleased with the idea.

\---

It was very strange seeing Rhea again. She looked so… peaceful. Byleth wonders what she’s actually like. Maybe she really, truly did achieve a state of peace. Although, considering what she did to them and their mother, Byleth finds that very hard to believe. If anything, it’s become much easier to relate to Jeralt’s not-so-hidden contempt for Rhea.

Jeralt and Rhea talk. Byleth now realizes how obvious his lies are. How many years younger could they possibly look? No wonder Rhea didn’t buy it for a second. It was almost funny.

“...I wish I could’ve introduced you to their mother. She was lost due to illness” Jeralt finishes. 

Another obvious lie. Byleth was almost a spitting image of Sitri.

Rhea takes the lies in stride, sending a sympathetic smile to Jeralt. “I see. My condolences.” she says warmly, before turning to Byleth. “As for you…”

Then, she has eyes only for Byleth, slowly looking them up and down, almost as if she was searching for something. They remember feeling uncomfortable with her gaze the first time they had walked into these halls. Now it was standard. Every moment, she was probably measuring how close they were to Sothis.

“My thanks for saving our students.” she says. “What is your name?”

“Byleth,” Byleth says, hoping to cut the meeting as short as possible. They needed to start thinking about which house to choose, already.

She nods. “What a beautiful name.” she says, as if paying you the highest of compliments.

Byleth nods graciously. It was strange, talking to Rhea peacefully like this.

Rhea. Despite how she made them feel every emotion under the sun--happy, bitter, angry, upset--Byleth still sympathized with her. They even cared about her, once. She was one of the people that Byleth wished they could save, and they were starting to feel like Rhea would be the hardest to do so. 

\---

The meeting with Rhea ended uneventfully. Byleth always wondered why Rhea had Jeralt tell them about their new professor position instead of telling them herself, but they supposed it didn’t matter. It got the job done, either way.

After a little chat with Manuela and Hanneman--Sothis, it was good to see them, and they really never did age, did they?--Byleth is instructed to pick a house.

This was the important decision. The most important decision Byleth would ever make. They would really need to think this over.

Instead of going to talk to the students, Byleth leisurely walks towards the Officer’s Academy, looking around for a moment before sitting down in the grass, and looking up at the sky.

Blue Lion. Golden Deer. Black Eagle. Adrestia. Faerghus. Leicester. How terrifying that a single decision could set the fates spinning in whatever direction Byleth pleased.

Byleth could make or kill kings. They felt a strange sort of emotion at that thought, one they couldn’t really name. Maybe they truly had ascended. Maybe they had been divinity all along. Or maybe, they were incredibly, incredibly lucky.

No. You don’t get lucky three times. Were they really some sort of genius strategist? Doubtful, as their main strategy was simply “don’t let anyone die”. Was their moral support to the students, to the future armies, really something that pushed the tide of battle over?

Byleth idly wonders who would’ve won if they didn’t meddle.

“Fan of the grass?” A familiar voice says from above them, pulling them from their thoughts. Byleth looks up.

Claude shoots them a grin, before sitting down next to them. “It must be pretty overwhelming with all these nobles, huh?” he says, in a tone that doesn’t give away if he’s teasing or not. “I get ya. Hey, you should pop by our classroom. There’s a lot of people like you, there.”

“People like me?” Byleth asks dryly. They knew he meant no harm by it, but they wouldn’t miss a chance to push Claude’s buttons in return.

Claude blinks, before giving a laugh. “Yeah. Leonie’s a mercenary too, y’know. She’s been super curious about you, ever since you walked in with Jeralt. You should say hi.” he says. 

Every word for him was so easy. Byleth was always slightly jealous of that.

Claude notices them staring, and cracks a grin. “So, are you joining as a Knight? Or, y’know, it’s not too late to enroll.”

Enroll. The thought had never occurred to Byleth. Now, wouldn’t _that_ be a different world. They weren’t sure which house they would’ve joined. Golden Deer would’ve suited them the most, but Remire was in the Empire. Although, they didn’t really live in Remire, but were simply passing through.

Maybe it would’ve come down to this decision, all over again. Choosing a house. Choosing the fate of the world.

They almost jump when Claude stands back up. He shoots another look down at Byleth, with an expression they can’t read. When he notices them looking back, he shoots another smile. “Need help getting up?” he says, offering his hand.

Byleth hesitates, before taking it.

“C’mon, I’ll introduce you to everyone.” Claude says.

Byleth was starting to think they knew which house to choose.

\---

Their first meetings with Dimitri and Edelgard were about the same as always.

“I never got to thank you for saving our lives.” Dimitri says, earnestly. “I hope we can continue to get along. While we’re at Garreg Mach, please do not think of me as a prince, but rather, another student.” he says, before pausing. “Will you be joining the Knights of Seiros?”

Byleth shakes their head. “Still thinking about it.” they say. They preferred to keep the whole professor thing a secret, at least for now.

He nods twice, the second time mostly for himself. “Well, let me know if you have any questions about the monastery. I would be happy to help.”

\---

Edelgard watches Byleth approach her, staring from all the way across the entrance hall. It’s a little uncomfortable, so Byleth looks away and pretends to not notice.

When they finally look in her direction, it’s close enough to not be weird. Byleth looks at her, patiently waiting for her to say something. Byleth preferred to react to others, instead of being the first one to talk. They never had much to say, anyway.

Edelgard doesn’t say anything. Was she testing them? That seemed very much like something she would do.

“Hello.” Byleth says. They’re sure if their voice had more emotion, it would sound incredibly awkward. Thankfully, it just sounded like their usual deadpan.

“What do you think of Garreg Mach?” Edelgard asks politely, although Byleth knew her well enough to know she’d much rather skip the pleasantries. She really was quite the actor.

Byleth was lucky they didn’t need to act. Instead, they were naturally inscrutable.

“It’s nice.” Byleth says noncommittally. Or, at least, it came off that way.

Edelgard raises an eyebrow. “Well, I hope you grow to like it. I’ve heard that you’ll be staying here for quite a while.”

Byleth nods--they’re not even going to question how she knew that--before pausing for a moment. “I hope we can get along.” they say.

Edelgard gives a curt nod of her own. "I hope so, as well."

\---

“Black Eagles.” Byleth tells Rhea. It wasn’t an easy decision, but one they knew they had to choose. Edelgard was the epicenter of the war, after all. The closer they could get to her, the more options they would have. 

It wouldn’t stop Byleth from getting close to the other house leaders. They would do that, no matter what.

“I’ll take the Blue Lions.” Hanneman says. “I was already planning to teach that class, anyway.”

Manuela nods. “Golden Deer for me, then.” she says. “I like the spunk of that class! It should be fun.”

Rhea nods. “Then, please take care of your students. I believe we will have a wonderful year, with your help.”

Byleth can't help but feel like she's talking directly to them.

Rhea dismisses the professors, and Byleth starts heading to the Officer’s Academy. Without wasting a second of time, they walk into the Black Eagles classroom.

“Oh! What brings you here? We were just about to greet our professor for the year.” A ginger boy-- _Ferdinand, Byleth remembers fondly_ \--says, shooting a pleasant smile to Byleth. His smile fades. “Wait--”

“This is Byleth Eisner. She--”

“They,” Byleth corrects.

“They are our professor for this year.” Edelgard explains, not missing a beat. They appreciate how something like that was never a big deal with her. And, Byleth always knew she’d make sure the others got it right.

A tall girl with dark skin and a beautiful red-purple braid gives a bow. “I am very pleasure--er, pleased to meet you.” she says, saying the words awkwardly, as if she had to carefully think over each one. “My name is Petra.”

Ferdinand stands up straight. “My apologies! My name is Ferdinand von Aegir. You are younger than I expected.” he says, tilting his head. “Ah! Not that it is a negative thing!”

“Well, as long as they’re taller than Caspar, it should be fine.” A boy with long green hair says mildly.

“Hey! I am not that short!” A boy with light blue hair pipes up. He really was short. “Linhardt, you don’t need to be like that!” 

“Settle down, guys.” A girl with long brown hair, and a cute little hat-- _you’ve always been a fan of that hat_ \--speaks up. “We don’t want to make a bad impression with our new professor, do we? Especially not one so cute!” She shoots Byleth a wink, before pausing, her gaze falling on something huddled in the corner that was wearing something that. “So… Bernie, why don’t you stand up and come over here?”

“EEEK!” A girl’s high pitched voice squeaks. “Dorothea! Don’t talk to me! Don’t look at me! I’m not here!”

“Bernadetta, you would do well to stand up. Your actions do not reflect well on Lady Edelgard.” A tall, menacing man with dark hair says. Somehow, everything he said sounded rather ominous. Byleth had always found it amusing.

Dorothea sighs, before glancing over at Edelgard.

Edelgard catches her eye, and shakes her head. “It’s fine, Hubert.” she says, before turning to Byleth. “I apologize for this. We’re a little… disorganized. But our house is actually quite endearing once you get to know us.” she says.

Byleth nods. “I look forward to it.”

\---

After introductions, Edelgard sidles up to Byleth. “You might’ve already heard, but we have a mock battle in a few days.” she says. “It’s a small scale battle. Only five students from each house, along with the professor.” 

Byleth nods.

Edelgard watches them for a moment. “We’re counting on you to lead us. This is your chance to prove yourself.”

Prove themself. Byleth would laugh at that, if they were the type of person to laugh. If only she knew. In fact, maybe the mock battle would be a good chance to show off. Again.

Edelgard gives a satisfied nod. “Come to me if you need help with anything.” she says, before heading off.

Byleth watches her for a moment, before pulling out their planner-slash-dossier that Rhea had given them, mostly for the calendar. She had told them--today was a weekend, and a free day before they would have to enter the mock battle. Byleth flips the calendar to the next month--nothing was written on it, yet, but Byleth could see the events in their mind.

They flip to the next month. And the next. They keep flipping, until they get to the second month. They circle that month--they couldn’t remember exactly which day was the big turning point, but they were pretty sure it was that month--and close the book, pocketing it.

So much to do, so little time.

Byleth starts looking around the monastery. Now, to do the rounds. They would always go around the monastery like this, before, but this time they had a plan. Or, at least, the framework of a plan.

Their first stop is the library.

“Hello,” Byleth says to Linhardt casually, while passing by him. They keep walking, not expecting a reply. Besides, it usually took a moment to catch his attention while he was reading. Instead, Byleth makes a beeline and sits down in front of a certain white-haired girl sitting at a desk. She seemed to be fairly absorbed, but--unlike Linhardt--she immediately noticed when someone approached her personal space.

She looks up from her book. “Can I _help_ you?” she asks, somewhat harshly.

Her tone doesn’t bother Byleth. Most of their life, people would talk like that to them. It wasn’t a big deal.

“Just wanted to say hi.” Byleth responds with a shrug. 

The girl frowns. “Hi.” she says with a frown. “Is that all? I’m busy.”

Byleth nods. “Oh, I see.” they say mildly. “In that case, I hope we can talk later.” Byleth stands up, giving a small wave.

The girl doesn’t notice, and she immediately returns to her book.

Byleth sticks their hands in their pocket, glancing around. The person they wanted to talk to wasn’t there, but they did have to set their eyes on Tomas. Solon. Whatever. Byleth made a mental note to kill him as soon as they could get away with it. It was probably possible. They just had to be patient.

Byleth looks around the room one more time before heading out of the library, still looking back while they run smack into someone else.

“Oof--hey, I’m so sorry… wait, Teach?” Claude says with a grin, bending to pick up the stack of books that had tumbled out of his hands. “What a coincidence. By the way, don’t let Lysithea get to you. She’s like that with everyone. Except me, of course.” he adds with a wink. “She’s even more grumpy to me.”

Byleth looks back blankly.

“Man, tough crowd.” Claude says with a sigh. He stands up straight. “Y’know Teach, I really thought we had a connection the other day. It’s too bad you didn’t choose our class.”

Byleth isn’t really sure what to say to that. “Sorry?”

Claude shrugs. “No big. Manuela isn’t a bad teacher.” he says, looking at Byleth for a moment. There’s something unsaid, but they can’t put their finger on it. “Anyway. I need to return all these books.” he says.

Byleth nods again. Sothis, he was good at talking. It was something they deeply appreciated when they were around him. But, still. They had to say something before he left. 

“I want to be friends.” Byleth says. Another phrase that they’re sure would be awkward if their tone didn’t make it sound so blunt.

Claude blinks, before smiling. “Me too, Teach. Hey, see you around.” he says, before heading in the library, giving a wave as he turned his back.

Linhardt looks up from his book. "Was someone talking to me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Claude appreciation fic


	2. Showing Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the mock battle.

The morning of the mock battle, Byleth stretches in their room, glancing at the empty space that would soon become Sothis’ favorite corner. They’re impatient to see her again--it would be nice to finally tell someone their whole plan. Not that they weren’t confident in their own abilities, but Sothis was so smart. She might see something they missed.

And she was funny. Byleth missed her witty commentary.

Byleth finishes stretching, and steps outside of their room. It was early morning, likely long before anyone else was awake. They were used to waking up this earlier--even if Jeralt would always wake them up earlier, making it seem like they liked to sleep in. They supposed that was something nice about having their own room.

Scratch that. There was actually a _lot_ of nice things about having their own room.

Byleth looks up at the sky, admiring the soft colors of the sunrise. It really was nice. A moment of peace, followed by a battle just for fun. A moment like this would be rare. They start heading down the stairs, towards the lake, glancing over at the student dorms. They wonder if anyone else was awake. Knowing how many students liked training, it was almost impossible that they were all asleep.

Byleth stops next to the lake, before heading to the greenhouse. They open the doors, blinking for a moment as they see Dedue, already bending over the flowers. Byleth wonders for a moment if they should leave, before frowning. No, this was a good change.

“Ah.” Dedue says, standing up straight. “I will leave, if that would make you more comfortable.”

Byleth shakes their head. “No. It’s fine.” they say, walking over to the nearest flower.

Dedue nods, then turns back to the plants.

The two of them sit in silence. The two of them were probably the quietest people at Garreg Mach. It was nice. Relaxing. When the two of them were together, it reminded Byleth of the early days with Jeralt. Before they picked up a sword. 

Byleth picks up a watering can.

“This side is already done.” Dedue says.

Byleth nods, moving to the other side.

There’s another peaceful moment or two, before the greenhouse door opens one more time.

“Dedue--oh, Professor.” Dimitri says, sweeping sweaty bangs out of his face. “I didn’t expect to see you here. I was just going to grab Dedue to get ready for the mock battle.” he says, standing up straight.

Byleth nods. “Right.” they say. “I should do that, too.” Byleth sets down the watering can. Most of their students were in the second story dorms. Should they go wake them up? There were a few students that definitely wouldn’t make it on time if Byleth didn’t check on them.

“See you at the battle.” they say to Dimitri as they pass him.

Dimitri nods. “Good luck, Professor. I look forward to seeing you in battle, today.”

\---

Their first stop was the top floor. Byleth makes a beeline for one noble’s room in particular, knocking on his door.

“Come in!” A chipper voice says, and not at all the one Byleth expected to hear from the other side of the door.

Byleth opens the door to reveal Caspar leaning over Linhardt’s bed. It looked like he had grabbed the poor boy’s shoulders and was shaking as hard as he could.

“Hey Professor!” Caspar says, looking over at Byleth. “You think you could help? He just gets mad if I wake him up.”

Byleth steps over, looming over Linhardt’s bed. “Linhardt. If you don’t make it to the mock battle, I’ll make you stand up during class.” Byleth pauses for dramatic effect. “Every class.”

Linhardt sits up. “I’m awake!” he says, before stifling a yawn.

Caspar stares. “Wow.” he says, looking at Byleth in awe.

Byleth basks in his gaze just one moment, before giving a curt nod, and heading out. “Get ready, and meet me at the entrance hall by eight.” they say.

“Our new professor is a demon,” Linhardt complains as he slides out of bed.

Caspar scratches the back of his head. “Really? I think they’re kinda badass.”

\---  
Byleth heads back downstairs, to the other trouble student. She was probably already awake, but waking her up wasn’t the issue.

They knock on Bernadetta’s door. “Bernadetta?”

“Yes?” she says in reply, her voice giving away a slight tremble.

“We’re going to prepare for the mock battle in an hour. I’ll see you at the hall at eight, right?”

“R--right. Yes, professor.”

“Alright, thanks, Bernadetta. Don’t let me down.” they say, before heading away.

Byleth could hear her muttering something, but they couldn’t make out the exact words. Last time, Byleth had to partner with Edelgard to coerce Bernadetta out of her room, but they hope this tactic would be a bit more effective.

Byleth stands there for a moment, before heading to the hall. They didn’t have enough time to do much else. They would have breakfast when everyone joined in, and until then, they might as well.

They sit down at a bench and pull out a book to read, but their mind drifts elsewhere. How would they handle this mock battle? Whose attention did they want to grab? They’d have to do something to attract Lysithea--that much was clear enough, but from there…

Byleth closes their book, instead opening their planner, turning to the blank section at the end. They needed to start figuring out what to do. They needed to make a plan. First, they would start with writing down what they remembered had happened, each time. They pull out a pencil and start making notes:

_-bandit guy at red canyon  
-sylvains brother _

Wait. Byleth was pretty sure they had the Sword of the Creator at that time. They scratch that out.

_-bandit guy at red canyon  
- ~~sylvains brother~~  
-ashe’s dad  
-tomb with the creator sword  
-sylvains brother_

Byleth pauses. Flayn was kidnapped next, right? They wonder what the class would do that month if they killed Solon before Flayn could get kidnapped.

Next was definitely the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. They couldn’t forget that, not after Flayn had quizzed you on it so many times.

_-bandit guy at red canyon  
- ~~sylvains brother~~  
-ashes dad  
-tomb with the creator sword  
-sylvains brother  
-save flayn  
-battle of the eagle and lion  
-remire_

Huh. They really wonder what would happen that month if Solon was dead.

_-bandit guy at red canyon  
- ~~sylvains brother~~  
-ashes dad  
-tomb with the creator sword  
-sylvains brother  
-save flynn  
-battle of the eagle and lion  
-remire  
-revenge  
-sothis’ throne room  
-war starts_

Byleth lets out a small huff. Okay, how could they fix this? Who was worth saving? Who wasn’t? Actually, that one might be an easier list to make. They put their pencil back on the paper, making another column titled “DIE”.

__DIE  
-bandit guy  
-so 

“Professor? There you are.” Edelgard says from behind Byleth, causing them to flinch and drop their pencil.

Byleth quickly closes their notebook.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Edelgard says, although she looks more amused than apologetic. “Most of the class is here, although some have already headed to the dining hall for breakfast. Shall we go?” she asks, her gaze flicking between the pencil and Byleth’s notebook.

“Yes.” Byleth says, standing up.

It’s a short walk to the dining hall, although it seems impossibly longer while walking next to Edelgard. It’s not as if they were alone--there was about half of the Black Eagles following behind the two of them, with Hubert hovering behind Byleth. They wonder if he’s trying to be intimidating, but it was just kind of funny. 

Byleth suddenly stops, and they’re glad their stony face doesn’t betray a smile when Hubert has to quickly maneuver to the side. Pity. It would’ve been funny if they bumped.

“What is it?” Edelgard asks.

Byleth glances back, looking at the class. Besides Hubert, there was Petra and Dorothea quietly chatting, and… ah. Byleth turns back once they confirm Bernadetta’s presence, hiding behind the two girls. “Just making sure Bernadetta is with us.” they say casually.

Edelgard nods. “She came with no issues.” she says with a small smile. “Can I assume you had something to do with that?”

Byleth shrugs. “Can you?” they say, before heading onwards. They don’t glance back. It was more fun to imagine Edelgard’s expression, than to actually see it.

The class enters the dining hall. Byleth vaguely notices Hubert and Edelgard head off to a corner, but that their mind was elsewhere. There was something much more important. They head straight to the counter to get their breakfast. Byleth never skipped a meal,and getting a meal late made them grumpy--not that anyone except Jeralt could notice. Breakfast, especially. Byleth fondly thought of it as the most important meal of the day. They grab their tray and head to the tables, glancing around. They should probably start bonding with their own class, before they start buttering up the other students. They search for students from their house.

Ah, over there. There was a group of the Black Eagle students that were already in the dining hall. It looked like Linhardt was on one side of the table, with Caspar directly across, and Ferdinand on the other side. Byleth walks over and sits next on the other side of Caspar, before taking a large bite of eggs piled on toast.

“...And that’s why you need to eat your meal, Linhardt!” Caspar finishes saying, before taking another huge bite of eggs.

“Mmph,” Linhardt says, his head on the table, and his eyes closed.

“He is right. You should take this advantage to eat! You do not want to embarrass yourself during the mock battle.” Ferdinand says. His food had a small dent on it, and he was eating at a slow and steady pace. He takes a break from talking to take a small bite of food.

“Yeah!” Caspar says, mouth half full of food.

Ferdinand swallows, looking slightly mortified. “Caspar. Please, do not talk with your mouth full.”

“I’m not going to participate in the mock battle, anyway.” Linhardt says, before opening his eyes. “Right, Professor?”

Caspar jumps, turning to look at Byleth. “Oh. Hey, Professor. I didn’t see you there.” He pauses. “So… who _is_ going to participate? Me, right?”

Ferdinand doesn’t say anything, but he looks over at Byleth with extreme interest.

Byleth stares back, their mouth full of food. They take a moment to swallow. “Edelgard,” they begin.

“Well, yeah.” Caspar says.

“Linhardt.” Byleth continues.

“Me?!” Linhardt says, sitting up.

“Dorothea. Bernadetta. And Petra.”

Ferdinand looks like he’s trying very hard not to seem disappointed.

“Bernadetta?” Caspar says skeptically. “You’re crazy.”

“Caspar! Please do not call our professor such rude names.”

“Now, Professor, hold on--why me?” 

“Aw… I really wanted to participate. I guess there’s always next time, right?”

“Yes. I will also prove my worth to you, in the upcoming battles, so you will have no choice to pick me!”

Byleth enjoys the chaos, quietly eating their meal. Ah, nothing like breakfast at Garreg Mach.

Linhardt sighs, quickly realizing he wasn’t getting anywhere with Byleth. “I guess I have no choice.” he says. “I suppose that’s my fault for being the only one in this house interested in Faith magic.”

“It is.” Byleth says, after swallowing. They weren’t about to get any looks of disapproval from Ferdinand. “But, don’t worry--that’ll change, soon.”

Ferdinand perks up. “Oh? Already preparing our lesson plans?” he asks.

Byleth nods, but doesn’t say anything, despite Ferdinand’s pleading stare. “Eat your food.” they say eventually, before returning to their own.

“Ha!” Caspar says, pointing at Linhardt. “See? The professor agrees!”

Linhardt sighs, begrudgingly starting to eat his meal. “I should know better than anyone that the dining hall is the worst place for a nap.” he mutters.

\---

Now that all the students were up and accounted for, and they had a hearty breakfast, they could finally relax until the battle. Byleth decided to take a little stroll, to lighten themselves up before they had to do anything strenuous. It was starting to become a warm morning, but Byleth didn’t mind. It was peaceful.

Or, they would’ve been, until Edelgard walks up to them, her red sash shining bright in the morning sun. “Ah, there you are.” she says. “I hope you’re ready for the mock battle. It’s my chance to measure your worth as an instructor.” Her voice was amicable, but her gaze was less so.

Byleth nods. “You won’t be disappointed.” Their tone left no room for question.

Edelgard raises her eyebrows, an amused smile playing at her lips. “Oh? I can’t wait to see what’s in store.” she says. “I hope you will show us what you’re capable of.”

“I will.”

Claude and Dimitri walk by, but Claude stops in his tracks at the sight of Byleth and Edelgard. “Oh my,” he says in mock surprise. “What’s this? A strategy meeting? I don’t remember getting an invitation. Mind if I stand here and eavesdrop?” he asks.

Byleth knows he would’ve actually eavesdropped, were Dimitri not there.

“Sure. Our strategy is to knock you out first, before any of us are knocked out.” Byleth says, deadpan.

Claude nods, pretending to think it over. “Huh. You know, I think you’re onto something, Teach.”

A smile tugs at Dimitri’s lips. “Funny. That was our strategy, too.”

Byleth’s expression lights up--no smile, but their eyebrows raise, and eyes widen slightly. Ah! That was a rare look, from Dimitri. And one they liked to see. They wonder if they could get him to smile more.

“What’s this? His Royal Highness made a joke?” Claude teases.

“That _is_ new.” Edelgard agrees.

Dimitri folds his arms. “I can make jokes.” he protests.

“Oh, there you are!” Manuela’s voice calls from across the hallway, and she power walks up to Byleth. 

Byleth tries to focus on her face.

“Aww, are you getting along with the students?” she says, looking between the four of them.

Hanneman comes up behind her. “I hate to interrupt, but we need to go to our faculty strategy meeting.” he says to Byleth, before giving a nod at the house leaders. “Oh, and good luck to all of you.”

Byleth nods, before glancing back with a wave.

I’ll meet you on the field.” Edelgard says.

\---

The Black Eagles stand on the edge of the field of the mock battle. It was close to Garreg Mach, and a good size for a mock battle, but small for any other kind of fight. All the houses huddle up, and the Black Eagles stand around Byleth, forming a rough circle.

“I trust you have a plan?” Edelgard asks.

Byleth nods. As good of a plan as any. Make sure none of the students get knocked out. “Magic users--Dorothea and Linhardt, stay behind the others. Try to stay out of range. You too, Bernadetta.”

Dorothea nods seriously. Linhardt nods, looking a little relieved. 

Bernadetta looks like she might faint.

“Petra, Edelgard--you’re on the front lines. Edelgard, we’ll act more like a shield, so try to let the others most of the attacks in.” The other students needed the practice much more. And, as much as Byleth wanted to show off, it would be a hassle later on if the students couldn’t stand on their own. Byleth gives a meaningful nod towards Petra. “Petra, try to target ranged units.” Byleth pauses. “If I had to guess, the Blue Lions will probably send Ashe in. Try to leave him alone, until I say so. We don’t want to fight both houses at the same time, at least not right off the bat.”

“It looks like the other houses got time to set up, so they’ll have terrain advantages. Be aware of that.” Byleth continues. “And, don’t go after the other professors until I say so. Everyone understand?”

The students nod, suddenly serious.

Edelgard breaks into a slight smile. “Professor, this is the most I’ve ever heard you talk.” she says.

Byleth nods. Battle strategy was worth talking about. They learned early on that others couldn’t read their mind, and acting without communication led to problems that could become fatal.

Oh. Maybe they should say that. They are a teacher, after all. “Remember, students,” Byleth begins, suddenly feeling awkward. Once again, they feel lucky that their natural voice was so monotone. “Communication is key in battle. Do not act on your own, or it could lead to you dying on your own.”

The students glance at each other.

“I don’t wanna die!” Bernadetta cries, starting to shake.

Byleth shifts. Maybe it was too early to say stuff like that. “You won’t die, Bernadetta. I believe in you. Besides, I’ll be right behind you, watching your back.”

That calms Bernadetta down somewhat, and she slowly nods.

Byleth turns away, just in time to catch Edelgard staring at them with an unreadable expression.

“Alright, class,” they say, deciding to ignore it. Edelgard stared a lot. That was just her thing. “Break.”

\---

The battle was exactly as easy as Byleth imagined. They took down the Golden Deer first, picking off the students that were placed in front, while Claude and Hilda hid behind cover. It was no challenge to take them down, because Claude and Hilda didn’t move from their spots until their cover was destroyed, leaving the other students to struggle on their own.

 _I’ll have to bring that up to Claude. He really needs to be more proactive_ , Byleth thinks.

Although Byleth didn’t get a chance to show off, they could tell that Petra and Bernadetta were getting more confident in their movements. It was a visible improvement. Linhardt was also looking more comfortable with healing the other students.

“Leave Dimitri for me,” Byleth orders. He was, without a doubt, the strongest player on the field. Byleth had a plan for him. The whole school was watching, after all.

Edelgard raises an eyebrow, but she follows their orders. 

They knock out the Blue Lions one by one, and as Dimitri comes closer, Byleth lowers their sword.

“Leaving me an opening, Professor?” he asks, with a half smile. He’s definitely enjoying this. 

Byleth doesn’t reply, instead raising their hand as fire and heat gather, building up towards Dimitri and culminating in an explosion.

Linhardt’s eyes widen. “You know magic, Profes--”

“Focus!” Byleth orders, their eyes not leaving Dimitri.

Dimitri was left laying on the ground. “Ugh… I know when to admit defeat.” he says. “Thank you, Professor.” he says, before heading off the battlefield.

Hanneman gulps. “Oh, am I the only one left?” he asks innocently.

“Get him!” Byleth yells, and the students charge.

\---

The Black Eagles leave the field, some bruised and scratched, but all standing up.

“We have seized the day!” Petra says, grinning wide.

“You all did great.” Byleth says, before looking at Bernadetta. “Nice work. I’m proud of you.”

Bernadetta turns red, and ducks to hide behind Petra.

“That wasn’t so hard.” Linhardt says mildly. “Thank you, Professor. That was quite the learning experience.”

The other Black Eagles run over, with Caspar jumping and hollering incoherently. “You did it! That was so cool when you--wham! And Bernadetta just--crack! And then the professor was all--boom!” he says excitedly.

Dorothea beams. “I’m glad you enjoyed the show.” she says, giving a little curtsey.

Hubert nods. “I see we have a fine class.” he says. “Although, this was only a taste of what’s to come.” he adds ominously.

“You mean… the Battle of the Eagle and Lion?” Dorothea guesses. “No need to say it like _that_ , Hubie.”

“Wh-what? I have to do that MORE?” Bernadetta says, turning pale.

“Um. You know this is an Officer’s Academy, right?” Caspar says, raising an eyebrow.

“I didn’t want to be here!” she cries, covering her face. “Can I go to my room now, Professor? Please?”

“Not until after dinner.” Byleth says, folding their arms. No one should skip dinner.

Petra stands quietly for a moment, before looking at Byleth. “I thank you, Professor. You have directed me well.” She pauses. “Real battle is…” Petra trails off, her face scrunching up. “It was angry.” she finishes, looking rather unsatisfied with her word choice.

“Rousing? Intense? Provoking?” Linhardt guesses. 

“Yes! Intense.” Petra says, looking relieved. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out what looks to be a mini-dictionary, and starts flipping through it.

Edelgard nods, looking over at Byleth, catching their eye. “Well done, Professor.” she says. “I think this is going to be a very productive year for all of us.”

Byleth nods. “Yes.” they say evenly. “It will be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Caspar. Short king


	3. Back to Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first week of teaching.

Byleth never liked their monthly meeting with Rhea.

So, when they were called in, they couldn’t help but feel a weight on their shoulders. Being around Rhea was, quite frankly, exhausting. At least this meeting the house leader was invited along with them.

Luckily, when Byleth stepped in the Archbishop’s room, only Seteth was there to greet them. Seteth still deeply distrusted them at this point in time, but at least he was straightforward. It was more refreshing than a lot of other people at Garreg Mach.

Oh. Would Seteth still dislike them, if Flayn never gets kidnapped? 

Byleth would cross that bridge when they got to it.

“There’s been a bandit problem in the Red Canyon. This area is protected by the church, so we are tasked with clearing it out.” Seteth says. “For this month, your house will clear out the bandits. Any questions?”

Seteth’s gaze passes over Edelgard, before landing on Byleth. The two of them stare at each other for a moment. 

“Good.” he says. “Then please plan accordingly. This is no mock battle.” He gives a curt nod, before heading out of the room.

Edelgard looks over at Byleth. “Bandits, again.” she says, looking thoughtful.

“Yes,” Byleth agrees. That was another missing piece, wasn’t it? “Isn’t a little suspicious that a bandit knew to target the three leaders of Fódlan?” they say, putting a hand to their chin. “I wonder if there was an information leak.”

Edelgard blinks. “You think it wasn’t a coincidence?”

“No.” Byleth says. “Nothing is.”

She looks at them for a moment. “You seem so certain.”

“Yes.” Byleth says. “I don’t believe in coincidence.” Not after what they’ve seen. Byleth pauses. “Doesn’t it seem too simple? To assassinate the three future leaders of Fódlan? Do we know anyone who would want that?” Byleth muses. 

Edelgard folds her arms. “You bring up an interesting point, but Fódlan has many enemies. Perhaps it was foreign?”

“Perhaps.” Byleth says, glancing at Edelgard. No doubt she was hiding something, which was why Byleth said all of this in front of her. “I suppose, if we ever see that bandit again, we’ll have to capture and question him.” they say, pausing for a moment to look over at Edelgard.

“I suppose so.” she says neutrally.

Dammit. Byleth couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

\---

For the first time, Byleth would be teaching. At least, the first time in this timeline. Byleth spreads out their notes they made on each student. What their current strengths and weaknesses were, what their end goal should be, and what they should be working towards. Byleth had quickly learned that there were certain combinations that worked much better than others.

The first students start filtering into class. The first was Ferdinand, and he sits up close to the front. “Good morning, Professor!” he greets with a smile. “I look forward to our lessons.”

Next was Bernadetta, who took a spot at the back corner, and put her books and bags on the seat next to her. She sits stiffly for a moment. “Um… m-morning!” she squeaks, before sliding down in her chair and trying to pretend that she wasn’t there. She starts mumbling something to herself, but Byleth can’t make it out.

Petra comes in next, sitting down next to Ferdinand. “Good morning, Professor. Good morning, Ferdinand.” 

Ferdinand beams. “Good morning!” he says in return. 

Sothis. Those two were too chipper for how early it was. The best thing about Garreg Mach pre-war was the accessibility of coffee. Ever since the last time loop, Byleth had become rather attached to the disgusting drink, and now they couldn’t imagine a morning of teaching without a mug of coffee.

Edelgard, followed by Hubert, enters at exactly five minutes before class starts. Byleth knows--they watch the clock. They wonder if Edelgard planned that, or if it was just her way of being punctual. Edelgard sits near the front, while Hubert sits in the back--but gives Bernadetta a wide berth.

“Good morning, Professor,” Edelgard greets.

“Yes. Good morning.” Hubert echoes, although when he said it, it sounded none too good.

Dorothea enters right before class starts. “Mooorning!” she says, practically singing.

Byleth glances at the clock. And… they’re late. They stand up.

“I know I’m preaching to the choir,” they say, gesturing to the filled seats. “But I will start class right on the hour. We have too much to cover.”

Caspar bursts into the room. “Sorry we’re late!” he says, one hand full of books, and the other full of Linhardt.

“Sorry, Professor.” Linhardt adds, not sounding sorry in the slightest.

“Sit down already.” Byleth says. “I’m starting.”

\---

The general lecture went well. Byleth could tell Edelgard was surprised that they seemed so at ease teaching. So much that she wasn’t able to hide it, apparently.

Then, it was time for independent study, while Byleth pulled students away for a little one-on-one. “Ferdinand? Come over here.”

Ferdinand perks up. “Ah, so you have seen my potential!” he says, standing up.

Byleth pulls him aside. “You like horses, right?”

Ferdinand nods. “I do. I am quite proficient at riding.”

“Okay,” Byleth says. “How about riding a wyvern?”

Ferdinand pauses. Byleth can tell they took him off guard. “Oh, I…” he begins. “That… I am not sure it is as dignified…”

Byleth shakes their head. “Seeing things from high up? Gliding across the skies? What’s undignified about that?”

Ferdinand shifts. “I…”

“Anyway. I need you to learn how to fly.” Byleth says. “Trust me. It’ll be very beneficial to the team.”

Ferdinand stands up straight. “I won’t let you down, professor.” he says.

“Thanks. Petra!” Byleth says, calling her over. 

Petra steps over. “Yes?” she says.

Byleth nods. “How do you feel about learning the lance?”

She blinks. “That is… good with me, Professor.” she says.

She was such a good girl. Byleth feels a bit of relief. At least there were a few good eggs in this class. “Great. Do you know how to fly a wyvern?”

Petra perks up. “Yes! That is traditional for Brigid.” she says.

“How about a pegasus.”

“I have not fly… flown with one, but I am good with learning.” she says, full of determination.

“They’re similar to wyverns.” Byleth says with a nod. “I think you would make an amazing pegasus knight. Let’s work towards that.” They pause. “In fact, you and Ferdinand will be on sky watch for this month--it’ll be good practice for the both of you.”

Petra nods obediently. “I will do my best.” she says.

“Catch him if he falls off.”

“I will.” Petra replies seriously. Well, it’s not like Byleth had been joking. It wasn’t impossible.

“Good,” Byleth says. “Dorothea!”

\---

Byleth steps outside of the classroom, starting to stretch. Ugh. And that was only the first day of the week. They stand at the grassy end of the Officer’s Academy, watching all the students leave their classrooms. None of the students looked their way, probably all too busy with the thought of dinner.

Oh. Dinner. That actually sounded really good.

“Hello, Professor.” 

Byleth looks over at the white-haired girl standing next to them. Ah. Lysithea. “Hello.” they reply.

“I want to ask you--I didn’t realize you knew anything about magic. I guess I assumed you were more of a brute. Oh--no offence.” She pauses. “Being in Manuela’s class is interesting, but I want to learn from someone who can teach both Reason and Faith.” she says, before pausing. “Do you know much about Faith, Professor?”

Well, she certainly didn’t hold anything back. Was she that interested in them? It looks like their stunt at the mock battle paid off. They knew a flashy show of magic would catch her attention.

“Yes.” Byleth says.

Lysithea nods. “Can you show me? Not that I don’t believe you.” 

Byleth blinks. “After dinner.” they say. Then, as if on cue, their stomach growls.

Lysithea frowns, and taps her foot impatiently. “Fine.” she says. “I’ll come with you, of course.”

Oh, good. Byleth would’ve insisted, if she hadn’t. Sometimes they worried that she wasn’t eating enough.

The two walk to the dining hall.

“What was the name of that magic you used? If I had to guess, it was… Bolganone, right?

Byleth nods. “Yes, it was.”

Lysithea asks further questions as they walk , and Byleth answers them as well as they can. This continues even as they get plates and sit down.

“Ooh cobbler and cream!” Lysithea coos over her dinner. “Mm, my favorite!” she says, before digging in.

Byleth had to admit--she was right. With the cream spilling over the pastry that was swimming in a sweet peach wine, to the fresh berries that decorated the top--it really was a masterpiece of food. They take a bite, enjoying the burst of juice in their mouth as they chomped down on a berry.

“Wow, you two look happy,” Claude says, setting his plate down and sliding in next to Lysithea. “Hey, what’d you get?” he asks, before swiping a scoop off of Lysithea’s plate. “Mm,” he says.

“Hey!” Lysithea says, looking incredibly offended. Not that Byleth couldn’t understand.

“You have a sweet tooth too, Teach?” he asks, ignoring Lysithea’s protests, and looking over at Byleth.

Byleth shrugs. “I like everything.” Call them a glutton, but they loved all flavors of food. The fact that Garreg Mach had such diverse flavors--from the bitterest of cheeses to the sweetest fruits--the food was truly fit for a king. Or, at least, an Archbishop. 

“I see,” Claude says, before taking a bite of his own food. He chews on it thoughtfully, looking at Byleth as if he wanted to say something. He quickly swallows. “Hey, Teach… can I ask you a question?”

Byleth raises their eyebrows. In front of Lysithea?

“Why did you choose the Black Eagles?” Claude says, tilting his head. “Was it ambition? Thought you’d get close to the powerful nobles of the Empire?”

“Claude!” Lysithea scolds.

Claude shrugs. “Hey, I wouldn’t blame you if it was.” he says. “But as I said before--you don’t really fit in there, do you?”

Did they? Actually, he was right. The knightly students of the Kingdom had similar upbringings and training to Byleth, and there were more commoner students from the Alliance.

“Maybe it was ambition.” Byleth says, before taking another large bite of their food. They hope that would send the message that they wouldn’t reply immediately.

“Yeah?” Claude says. “I wonder… what kind of ambition do you have?”

Byleth doesn’t say anything. 

“Claude, you’re being really nosy right now.” Lysithea says with a sigh.

Claude gives a grin. “Oh, am I? Sorry about that, Professor..” he says. He’s so full of it.

“Claude, eat.” Byleth says, before returning to their meal.

Claude looks at Lysithea. “Is it me, or does Teach get really serious about meals?”

Lysithea nods. “I’ve noticed that, too.”

\---

They finish up their meal, and Lysithea stands up. “Professor. Please show me now.” she insists.

Claude looks between the two of them. “Show you?”

Lysithea nods. “The professor was going to show me their ability in Faith magic.”

“Okay.” Byleth says, before picking up a table knife.

Claude furrows his brow. “You’re not going to--”

They slide the blade down on their arm.

“Professor!” Lysithea protests. Byleth’s wounds glow, and close up.

“How was that?” Byleth asks Lysithea.

Lysithea folds her arms. “Professor, you really should value your life more.” she says, before pausing. “It was okay. I guess it’s hard to show off in this kind of setting.” Lysithea frowns, looking unsatisfied. 

“You could come along to our mission this month and watch me in action,” Byleth offers.

She folds her arms. “Sorry, Professor. I’m too busy to just follow behind and watch.” 

Claude looks between the two of them. “You aren’t thinking of changing classes, are you?” he teases.

“I haven’t made my decision,” Lysithea, standing up from the table. “I’ll see you later, Professor. I have things to do.” She heads out of the dining hall.

Claude looks back at Byleth. “Stealing my best student?” 

Byleth rolls their eyes. “You’re not the professor.” they say, standing up themselves. “See you around, Claude.”

Claude nods, leaning on the table. “Yeah, I definitely will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Byleth knows the power that is reclassing everyone into Wyvern Lord.


	4. First Weekend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth does the rounds.

The rest of the week flew by uneventfully, finally reaching the weekend, Byleth’s favorite part of the week. And, well, probably everybody else’s too. 

They wake up early, stepping outside to see the early morning sunset. Waking up early--and going to sleep early--on the weekends was a treat like no other. The possibilities were endless. There was simultaneously so much they could do, and so little that they had to do. After a bit of stretching, Byleth decides to take a stroll around the monastery, maybe dip by the marketplace. They head down, towards the lake.

Oh. Byleth spots Jeralt fishing from the pier, and they head over towards him. “Hey,” they say. They wonder how long he had been awake. He always liked being awake in the mornings.

“G’morning, kiddo.” Jeralt says, his eyes not leaving the water. “Hope your first week of teaching wasn’t too rough.”

“It was fine.” Byleth says, before turning to grab a spare pole, sitting down next to him. Luckily, they had found some snails behind barrels at Garreg Mach. They attach one to their fishing pole, and cast.

“Let me know if you hate it here.” Jeralt begins, casually. “We don’t have to stay.”

Byleth wonders if he said that for their sake, or his own. Not that they wanted to leave Garreg Mach. They had actually grown incredibly attached to it. Byleth honestly considered it their home, at this point. “I’ll let you know.” they say noncommittally.

Jeralt stares at them for a moment, before shrugging. Byleth supposes that’s how it’s always been. The two of them fall into a comfortable silence. It was almost like it was still just the two of them, fishing at whatever lake they could find. The water was glimmering in the same way. Jeralt did always say that the early worm caught the fish. A saying that they’ve never heard anyone else say, ever.

Jeralt was there for them if they needed it, but he never stopped them or restricted them in any way. If they were being honest…

Byleth bites their lip. It was so hard to be honest about Jeralt, even in their own thoughts. They should just be happy he was still alive, shouldn’t they? Being next to him like this was nostalgic, but also bittersweet. They didn’t miss those times at all. They didn’t miss living with Jeralt, because it had been the same as living alone. But it wasn’t something they could reset him for. They weren’t sure they’d ever be able to sort out their feelings about their dad. 

But Byleth knew one thing. This time, he would be alive for them to do it. 

Okay, enough weird complicated parent feelings. Byleth wanted to relax for once! They let their mind wander, as they stare at the water. They close their eyes. The sun was warm, and the most important thing about fishing was patience, anyway. Byleth had time to kill. They really hope they could have days like this after the war, too. 

They’d love to teach Edelgard how to fish. She’d probably never done it before. 

They could teach Claude how they cooked fish. 

And…

They could teach Dimitri…

...

“Professor?”

Byleth’s eyes shoot open, revealing Dedue standing over them. Wait, since when were they laying down? They sit up, looking around. Thankfully, they were still gripping the pole--although they’re sure the bait was long gone.

Byleth glances around. It looks like Jeralt was, too. Typical.

“My apologies for startling you. I saw you laying here, and worried something might have happened.” he says. He didn’t have the most expressive voice--Byleth could relate--but they could clearly hear the concern in it.

“Sorry. I fell asleep.” Byleth mutters, as if it weren’t obvious. It would’ve been nice for Jeralt to wake them up. But he’s always been like that.

“You shouldn’t nap on the ground, Professor.” Dedue gently scolds. He offers a hand to Byleth. They take it, standing up.

“What time…?” Byleth says, putting the loaner rod away. They cover their mouth as a yawn starts to surface.

“It’s a little before eight.”

Byleth nods. Good. They still had plenty of time. They give a stretch.

“Professor." Dedue says suddenly. “Apologies for not doing so earlier, but I would like to thank you for saving His Highness’ life.” he says, before reaching into his pocket, and pulling out a small cloth bag. “You seemed… interested in plants. Here are some seeds, as a gift”

Byleth blinks. Oh, right. They cup their hands to accept the gift, and Dedue gently places it in their hands.

“I’ll take good care of them.” Byleth says.

“I trust you will.” Dedue says, and for a second Byleth could see a flicker of a smile on his face.

\---

The rest of the weekend was jam packed with what Byleth considered “chores”. Tend to the garden. Catch some fish. Grab some students to join them for lunch--Bernadetta, because otherwise she wouldn’t leave her room, and Dorothea, because she was the first student that didn’t _completely_ scare Bernadetta.

Although Byleth’s main purpose on their lucky fourth round was to save as many lives as possible, they also had lesser, secondary goals. Most of them boiled down to “make everyone happy”. So, doing the chores was absolutely necessary for that. They knew they couldn’t fix everyone’s problems overnight, but the sooner they got started, the better. Especially with someone like Bernadetta. Poor girl.

“Wow, Professor! How’d you know I’d love this?” Bernadetta says, her eyes sparkling as she eats her meal. Byleth takes in her expression as a small victory.

“The professor really does have good taste.” Dorothea agrees.

Byleth can’t help but feel slightly smug. The way to a person’s heart really was their stomach. Even Bernadetta would lighten up around meal times.

“By the way, I think you dropped this earlier,” Byleth says, handing Bernadetta a half-finished embroidery.

Bernadetta snatches it back, her face turning a slight tinge of red. “Thanks,” she mumbles quickly.

Dorothea perks up. “Wow. Did you make that? It’s beautiful.”

Bernadetta turns redder. “No! I mean… yes, I made it. But it’s not… it’s nothing.”

“Don’t say that,” Dorothea says, shooting off a warm smile. “It looks like you put a lot of work into it.”

Bernadetta looks like she might explode. Byleth can’t tell if it’s due to happiness, or because she was mortified. “You can have it!” she says. “After I finish it! Um, I’ll… I’ll give it to you!”

“Aw, really Bernie?” Dorothea says, eyes sparking. “I’ll get you something in return. Something nice!”

Bernie slides down in her chair. “No need.” she says, her expression flickering between happy and guilty.

Dorothea puts an arm around Bernadetta, ignoring the fact that she was slowly getting shorter. “I want to, Bernie! You deserve nice things. I think even the professor’s noticed that. Right, Byleth?” she says, shooting Byleth a wink.

Bernadetta gasps, pulling herself up. “Wait--the professor has a name?”

\---

The chores continued. Set up a monastery choir. Attend choir. Set up a complaint box. Answer complaints--one of Byleth’s favorite things to do. It was kind of funny how they were the only one that answered the box, despite having zero qualifications. But wasn’t that a perfect reflection of how Fódlan was run? Byleth taking care of everyone--emotionally--despite having little to no emotions, themself. 

Or, at least, that’s how it used to be. They didn’t feel the same flood of emotions they had when Sothis left their body, but they felt… something. 

Byleth finishes scribbling an answer to the anonymous question.

“Professor.”

Byleth jumps, turning around. Oh, Ferdinand. “Yes?” they say.

Ferdinand straightens his posture. “I came here to thank you. Do not think that all the work you are doing around the monastery has gone unnoticed.” he says. “In fact… if you have the time, I would like to treat you to tea!” 

Byleth blinks. Well. This has never happened before. Byleth had actually never been invited to a tea party hosted by anyone else. For a while, they had wondered if having tea so often wasn’t normal, but after a while they stopped caring. Tea parties were just that fun.

“I’d like that.” Byleth says, their expression softening, just a tad.

Ferdinand’s eyes widen. He opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something, before closing it back up again. “Right.” he says, momentarily distracted, before giving a small shake of his head, shooting Byleth a smile. “Please. Meet me at the gardens at 3pm. I will treat you to tea fit for a noble!”

\---

The two, teacher and student, sit across each other. Ferdinand looks at Byleth, but his eyes wander--the flowers, the tea, the cookies he had brought--before settling on Byleth.

“How do you like the tea?” Ferdinand asks with a smile.

Byleth takes a sip, instantly tasting the difference between their own brews and Ferdinand’s. Truly the difference between them and someone who had been making tea their whole life. “It’s very good.” they say. 

Ferdinand looks very pleased at the praise, before a moment of silence falls on the tea party.

Byleth hesitates, their mind racing to think of something to talk about. This really was their least favorite part of tea parties. They open their mouth to say something--

“How are you liking Garreg Mach, Professor?” Ferdinand asks pleasantly.

Oh. Right, this was Ferdinand’s tea party. A weight left their shoulders as they realized they wouldn’t have to direct the conversation. 

“I like it.” they reply simply.

Ferdinand tilts his head, as if waiting for elaboration.

Byleth doesn’t continue. 

Eventually, Ferdinand clears his throat. “Do you have a favorite thing about Garreg Mach?” he asks. 

Their favorite thing? There was so much about the monastery that Byleth had grown to love. The food, fishing, the library, the training grounds, the sunny grass outside of the Officer’s Academy…

“The students.”

Ferdinand blinks, a slight pink tinge crossing his face. “Why--Professor!” he says, his smile wide. “What a flattering thing to say. You may not realize it, but you are becoming quite popular with us, as well.”

They did realize it.

Byleth nods, taking a slow sip of tea.

There’s another moment of silence, and the nearby sounds of students chattering from the other side of the hedges drift over on the breeze. Byleth sets their teacup down with a quiet _clink_ , the sound more noticeable than normal.

“Ferdinand,” Byleth begins slowly. 

Ferdinand’s attention snaps to Byleth.

“You have your future set in stone. Yes?” Ironically, he did not. But Byleth wasn’t supposed to know that.

“Yes. I am to be the future Prime Minister.” he nods, looking at Byleth seriously, eyes shining. Ah, It seems Byleth had walked into his favorite subject--himself.

“What kind of Prime Minister do you want to be?”

Ferdinand sits up straight. “I want to be different from my father. I will not be corrupt--I will work with Edelgard, our strengths and weaknesses clashing with each other. My duty--any noble’s duty is to the people, and I will center that in what I do.” he says, each word precise and articulate, as if he had practiced saying them many times.

“So--you think the duty of a noble is to the people?”

Ferdinand nods. “I do.”

“Yet, many nobles do not do this.” Byleth pauses. “It seems more like an idealized version of nobility, rather than reality.”

The orange haired boy shakes his head. “I cannot argue with that. But, I can set myself as an example, and do my best to rebuke nobles that do not follow those principles.”

“Rebuke?” Byleth says, tilting their head. “What do you mean?”

Ferdinand leans back and folds his arms, his face scrunched up in thought. “They should be held accountable for any harm they’ve caused.” he says slowly. “And put on trial.”

Byleth nods approvingly, taking a sip of tea in order to excuse themselves from talking. They don’t particularly agree with him, but it would be nice to get him thinking.

“You’re a very idealistic young man,” Byleth says. “Don’t lose your ideals.”

Ferdinand perks up at the praise.

“But try to be more open-minded.” they add.

He nods. “I will take your advice into consideration.” he says.

Byleth looks at him for a moment. They really did care about Ferdinand, but sometimes they wanted to shake him and make him wake up to reality. This was a good alternative.

“I hope you do.” they say, before pausing. “How was working with Petra this week?”

Ferdinand brightens up. “Very well! Petra is quite lovely to be around. In fact, the other day, we were discussing the weaponry that is used in Brigid…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for starting out so slow! I swear I'm building up to stuff, I just want things to make sense with certain characters later on.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth kills bandits and solves mysteries.

“Our next battle is a real enemy. I want everyone to take this seriously.” Edelgard says, giving a quick briefing as they neared the reported location of the bandits. “I know we’ve done this before in practice, but this is real. Expect to kill.”

Bernadetta starts shaking. 

Petra glances over. “Do not fear, Bernadetta. I will not be letting any harm… I will make you safe.” she says, giving a confident nod.

“Th--thanks,” Bernadetta mumbles.

“You’ve got this, Bernadetta.” Byleth says, glancing over to the girl.

Bernadetta looks back at Byleth like a deer caught in headlights.

Byleth shifts their attention forward, their steps against dry red soil. How they wished that the students didn’t need to bloody their hands. Unfortunately, that was completely unavoidable. Byleth knew from a young age that they lived in a world where violence was power.

Dorothea frowns. “Is this really part of the church’s teaching? That we…” She glances over at Petra, her expression darkening. “That we need to kill?” Byleth can almost hear her thoughts. _How could the church turn kids so young into killers?_

Byleth knew the answer to that. The Red Canyon. Rhea would’ve done anything to give her an excuse to send Byleth to the Red Canyon, in hopes that Sothis would wake.

_Where are we?_

Byleth starts. Well, speak of the Goddess...

_What? Are you really so surprised?_

Oh. Sothis was back! Byleth listens to her give a loud yawn in their head. 

_Mmm, this place looks familiar. I think I’ve… been here before…?_ she says. Byleth can’t see her, but they internally picture her curiously looking around.

“Professor. I’ve spotted the bandits.” Hubert says. “It looks like they’ve set up an encampment next to those ruins.” He gestures. 

Edelgard looks off into the distance. “It looks like we’d be able to flank them. If we split up.” she says.

“We could.” Byleth says, mulling it over. The maneuver paid off sometimes, but other times it hadn’t been worth it. “Let’s take this slowly. The most important thing is our safety.”

\---

The battle was swift--the bandits were no match for the students. Each bandit was spread so far away from the others, it was easy enough to bait them out and destroy them with the horde of students. Byleth repeats this strategy until they narrow in on the bandit leader.

“Wait here,” Byleth says, before moving to the head of the group. They’ve been hanging behind the whole fight, but now it was time to get some answers.

Edelgard nods. “As you say, Professor.”

They raise their sword, carefully heading around the bandit leader, before quickly closing the distance, aiming at his legs. 

His axe comes down.

Byleth stops time, just as it heads towards them. It was the first time they needed to use their--Sothis’ divine power, since coming back. The power floods through them, and Byleth cracks a small smile. 

They go back. This time, Byleth catches his axe with their sword, flinging it away. 

“I can’t believe that worked twice.” they say, before pointing their sword at the bandit leader’s throat.

“Seiros brat,” the bandit hisses, but his eyes keep darting away from Byleth, as if expecting an unknown enemy.

“Tell me who you work for, and I’ll let you live.” Byleth says, leaning over.

The bandit leader spits.

Byleth gives him a hard kick, right where it would really hurt.

He lets out a string of curses, falling to the ground.

“Tell me,” Byleth says, trying to make their voice sound as threatening as possible.

The man opens his mouth, but erupts into flame.

Byleth stares blankly, before pulling time back once more.

“Tell me,” Byleth says, this time grabbing the man and flinging him off the ruin.

The ruin erupts into flame. Byleth pays it no mind, ignoring Bernadetta’s distinct shriek.

“F… f…” the man begins, his eyes bulging out as he stares at the fire. “Flame--”

His words cut short as an arrow spouts from his head. Sothis, what was going on? Were there really secret assassins, or were the students not following orders? There’s the sound of the students in commotion behind them, but Byleth didn’t have time to check--they pull time back. Further back than before, back before they had moved towards the bandit.

“As you say, Professor.” Edelgard says, the same exact way she had said it before.

Byleth shifts, narrowing their eyes. Now, they were back near the students. Byleth plans one last approach--they only need one more piece of information to confirm it. The bandit had all but admitted his employer. They just needed to confirm it. 

“Almost have it.” Byleth mutters to themselves, rushing towards the bandit leader one more time--

_Hm? Isn’t that the same bandit as before--Kostas, wasn’t his name?_

“Not now!” Byleth hisses, hoping no one heard it but Sothis. They use the same moves as before. The dive. The dodge. Kostas’ axe goes flying, for the third time. 

“Are you working for the Flame Emperor?” Byleth asks, their voice low enough so that the students wouldn’t hear over the distance.

Kostas’ eyes widen. “How did you kn--”

Good enough.

Byleth brings their blade down, cleaving through his neck. _Disgusting_ , they think. The man was clearly trash that didn’t deserve to take another breath. Threatening _children_.

“Professor!” Caspar yells, running over. “That was so cool!” 

Petra walks up behind him. “Yes. I agree. Your moves were full of skill.”

“Our savior,” Dorothea says with a sigh, but her eyes watch Byleth warily. 

It wasn’t a look they were unfamiliar with. 

“Let’s head back.” Byleth says, and for once their thoughts weren’t on the students.

So, it really was the Flame Emperor. But _why_? Byleth really was trying hard to fathom why she planned an assassination attempt against herself. They had actually brought up a few theories in front of Edelgard, but now it was even more complicated than they originally thought.

“You look full of thought, Professor.” Petra says, matching Byleth’s pace and walking next to them. 

“I am,” they mutter. Not that they could hash it out with anyone.

Wait. Maybe…

_Hmph. And, pray tell, what are these thoughts?_

Oh. Right. Byleth had forgotten about her. “Go on ahead.” they say, giving a wave to their students. “I’ll watch your back.”

Once the students were out of earshot, Byleth starts to smile. “Hello, Sothis.”

 _My, you certainly act familiar with me._ she says, as if making a simple observation. _You must know something about this Flame Emperor._ Sothis pauses, and Byleth can feel her impatience. _You must tell me all._

Byleth starts to smile. Finally, they have someone to which they can tell everything. “We merged our souls, and… I think I’m stuck in a time loop.” they say.

Sothis gasps dramatically. _Go on._ she says, as if Byleth were telling a very good bedtime story. She seemed to be taking it very well. _Tell me everything that you’ve experienced._

And they do. From Claude’s discoveries, to Dimitri’s struggle, to Edelgard’s victory. And most of all, Byleth’s identity. Every detail of their long, long journey was told to Sothis as they walked out of the Red Canyon.

 _Oh._ Sothis says, her voice sounding a little strange. _That explains… many things._

She remains quiet. Byleth suspects her to be deep in thought.

They leave her to it. It--understandably--might take a while to sink in.

 _Me? The Goddess? Why don’t I remember…?_ Sothis wonders softly.

\---

The trek back to the monastery goes by quickly, mostly because Byleth had more than enough to think about. As they arrive, Edelgard manages to catch their eye and waves them over while the rest of the class went their separate ways.

“We did well.” she says. “All due to your leadership, no doubt.” She pauses. “We saw you talking to that bandit--were you able to question him?” 

Byleth nods. “I asked him who he was working for.” they say. It wasn’t really worth keeping a secret, and Edelgard’s reaction would be worth more than the advantage this knowledge would give them.

Edelgard raises an eyebrow. “Were you able to get any information out of him?”

“I was.” Byleth says. “He’s working for the Flame Emperor.” They pause a moment, taking in Edelgard’s neutral expression. She’s a good actor. “Whoever that is.”

Edelgard shifts her weight to one side. “I’m not familiar with that name.” she says, looking thoughtful. “Although that’s quite bold of him to call himself an Emperor.”

“I agree.” Byleth says, wholly amused, before pausing. “Do you think this Emperor is foreign? That’s the only explanation I can think of.”

“I’m not sure.” Edelgard says, putting a hand to her chin. “We don’t have much information at this point in time. But Dagda and Almyra’s leaders don’t call themselves ‘Emperor’.”

This was a funny little farce they had going on. Both pretending to be clueless, and smart at the same time. “I guess anyone could call themselves an Emperor.” Byleth says with a shrug.

Edelgard nods. “That’s true enough.”

\---

Theorizing with Edelgard was interesting enough, but it wasn’t going to help Byleth actually figure out anything. Maybe someday Edelgard would trust them enough to tell them why she tried to have herself killed, but today wasn’t that day. Instead, they had to look for help elsewhere.

The library.

Not that the books themselves were useful--in fact, the books at the Garreg Mach library were some of the most hollow, propaganda filled pages that Byleth had ever set their eyes on--but Byleth had their sights set on the people that tended to frequent the library. In particular, one specific person.

“Hello Linhardt,” they say as they walk past the boy.

“Hello, Professor,” he greets back mildly, before looking up from his book. “Oh, I wanted to ask you.”

Byleth pauses to look back at him.

“I heard from Professor Hanneman that you’ve got quite the mysterious crest.” His voice remains mild, but his eyes sparkle with intrigue. “Would you mind if I took a look?”

Byleth frowns. “What Crest I have doesn’t matter.” they say.

“A very unique mindset. But not at all true.” Linhardt says. “You’re a mercenary--surely you’ve noticed your Crest having effects during battle?”

It’s not something they can really deny. “I have.” they say cautiously.

Linhardt nods, as if he hadn’t been expecting any other reply. “Wouldn’t it be better to know what it is, and what it does?”

No. They don’t. And they never really wanted to. They had just humored Hanneman. 

“Linhardt, are you happy with your Crest?”

Linhardt blinks. “Why, sure.” he says, simply.

Of course. Now that Byleth started thinking about it, was there anyone in Black Eagles that had serious issues with Crests? Edelgard aside, obviously.

No. Not really. Byleth really needed to recruit people from other classes, so they could relate.

“Sorry if that was a disappointing answer.” Linhardt says, turning back to his book. His interest in Byleth was clearly waning.

Byleth takes the cue and turns away. They glance around one more time, until they spot the person they were actually looking for. Byleth walks over and sits across the table from him.

“Well hello, Teach.” Claude says, looking up from his books to shoot a smile. “Come to visit little ol’ me?” He pauses, his expression getting more serious. “How was the Red Canyon? It’s mentioned a lot in the Church of Serios mythos. It must be something.” 

“It’s… large.” Byleth says. “And… dry.” They can’t even begin to imagine what it looked like during its prime. 

Claude nods, raising his eyebrows. “Mmm. I see.” he says, light sarcasm in his voice. “You really know how to paint a picture with words, Teach.”

They give a sigh. “Next time, you come with me.”

Surprisingly, Claude gives a serious nod. “That’s not a half bad idea,” he says.

Oh. He actually wanted to? Maybe they could bring him along the next time Sothis wanted to go there. It couldn’t hurt. The students would be sneaking out, anyway. Byleth thinks about it for a moment, starting to get fond of the idea of Claude coming along on that little trip.

Claude looks at Byleth expectantly, before clearing his throat. “So, Teach. I assume you didn’t just sit here to tell me about the Canyon?”

Oh, right. The reason they wanted to find Claude in the first place. “Yes. So, Claude…” Byleth begins, before their gaze falls to the book he was reading. Diagrams of all matter of dragons and beasts littered the page.

Ah. That book.

Claude follows their gaze. “Interesting, right? Tomas helped me find this book. It has all sorts of information I couldn’t find anywhere else. Especially about the Immaculate One.” He pauses. “A giant dragon that helped Serios in the war.” he explains.

Byleth nods, grateful. They didn’t exactly have many historical Church figures memorized. Or, really many historical figures in general. But they were learning.

The house leader leans forward, his golden cape brushing against the table. “The thing is, no one knew where the dragon came from.” he says, his voice lowered. “But apparently, there have been similar beasts sighted across Fódlan.” Claude leans back again. “I’m just trying to figure out what it means.” he adds with a sigh. “You can never presume that it’s all just folktale.”

Byleth nods. “You’re right.” they add. They didn’t really have much else to say. He _was_ right.

Claude shoots them a grin. “Aw, look at me blabbing your ear off. And you’re not even my professor.”

“I’m still your friend.” Byleth says. At least, they’d like to think so. Probably. Right? It was always so hard to tell with these things.

An almost relieved expression crosses Claude’s face. “Yeah, you’re right.” he says, before pausing. “Okay, Teach, I can only be so patient. What did you really want to talk about? I’m incredibly curious.”

Byleth leans closer, and lowers their voice. They didn’t want anyone else to hear this.

“What if the bandit attack at Remire had been on purpose?”

Claude’s eyes widen, and he looks at Byleth with shock, before a calm expression falls over his face, like he was trying to make the next move in a tense chess game.

“That makes sense.” Claude says quietly. “There were a lot of things that didn’t add up. Like how a powerful mercenary leader happened to be right there. Or, how it was all too convenient for you that the previous professor had been scared off by that same bandit.” He crosses his arms with a small, humorless laugh. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was orchastrated by you to get your position.” He pauses for a moment to gauge Byleth’s reaction.

Byleth’s expression doesn’t change.

He lets out a sigh. “Really Teach? No reaction?” 

“We both know that’s not it.” Byleth says with a shrug.

Claude shakes his head, before standing up. “Let’s head to my room. We can talk freely, there.”

Byleth stands up as well, following him out. They head out of the library, before starting down the hallways that lead to the bedrooms. Claude doesn’t say anything as they walk, but it’s obvious he’s thinking deeply.

“Why tell me?” Claude says. He’s walking ahead of Byleth, and he doesn’t look back to pose the question.

“You’re the smartest person I know.” they say simply.

Byleth still can’t see his face, but they notice Claude’s ear turning a slight shade of red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this is too slow or boring T_T I swear I am getting to the good stuff


	6. Mysteries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth tries to get answers.

Once in Claude’s room, Byleth closes the door behind them, turning around and folding their arms, leaning slightly against the door. “I want to hear your theories.” they insist. “I couldn’t figure out why. But I think you can.”

Claude stares for a moment, before sitting down in the chair at his desk. “So. You think there was a conspiracy to kill all three future leaders of Fódlan?” he asks, rubbing his chin.

The gesture was more impressive when he had hair.

“No,” Byleth says. “I don’t think the intent was to kill you three.” They pause. “But I was hoping you would help me figure out what the intent actually was.”

Claude leans his elbows on the desk. “What makes you think they weren’t trying to kill us?”

Byleth hesitates. “Let’s just say… I have reason to believe it was caused by someone from one of the three countries. Possibly without any of the house leaders' knowledge.”

His eyes widen. “What’s the reason?” 

Byleth shakes their head. “I can’t say, not at this point.”

“Fine,” Claude says, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. He shoots Byleth a lingering glance, before looking ahead of himself. “Okay, let’s see… if I was the one who arranged the attack, why would I do it?” he muses. He drums his desk a few times with his fingers, before standing up. 

“The professor--the previous professor, that you replaced. I think that’s a big piece. Like I said before, if I didn’t know better, I’d say this was something you coordinated.” Claude says, shooting Byleth a pointed look. He starts pacing around the room. “Unfortunately, you seem so incredibly neutral. Also, you came with your dad.” he adds with a smirk.

“Government agents can’t bring their dads along?” Byleth asks with mock surprise.

Claude stares. “I didn’t know you could make jokes, Teach. Or maybe that wasn’t a joke. I’m not sure which is worse.”

“I can make jokes,” Byleth protests.

Claude doesn’t look convinced. “Anyway,” he says, folding his arms. “Here are my theories:

There’s two things at play here. The fact that you and your dad just so happened to be there. Your dad’s not some random mercenary--he’s the ex-Captain of the Knights of Seiros.” Claude looks at Byleth pointedly.

“Which I didn’t know until recently.” Byleth mutters.

Claude nods. “Did he tell anyone at all? Well, Alois knows, so there might be people out there. But on to my second point--the professor. I think, if the target wasn’t the students… it was the professor.”

Byleth nods. That made sense.

“They were likely trying to replace the professor with someone, and maybe recruit your dad in one fell swoop.” he says. “Clearly they failed in every way. Your dad’s been recruited by the Church of Seiros, and you’re the professor.” 

“Yes,” Byeth agrees. “They did fail.”

Claude rubs his chin again. “Who would benefit from putting their pawn as a professor?” he says. “From what I heard, the person we all thought was going to be appointed to the third house was Professor Jeritza.” Claude shifts, before standing up. “Well, Teach, I may not be in your class, but you certainly gave me homework.”

“Since you’re not in my class, why not call me by name?” Byleth says, putting a hand on their hip.

Claude raises an eyebrow. “Um… what was that again?”

Byleth shoots him a glare.

“Kidding!” Claude says, putting up his hands in defense. “I can’t call you that, Teach. That would be too disrespectful!”

Byleth pouts. 

“Nope, you can’t convince me.” Claude says, shaking his head while his hands were still up.

Byleth gives a sigh. What else could they expect? They’ve never escaped being called “Professor”, or something to that regard. “Fine.” they mutter, before pausing. “Claude?”

“Hm?”

“Promise me, when you leave this school. Call me Byleth.”

Claude blinks, looking at Byleth’s face for a moment. “Promise.” he says, shooting a smile. “There might be something else that I want you to call me, too.”

“Huh? What is it?” Byleth asks, their eyes widening. They’ve never heard about this before.

Claude grins. “You know, when you make that face, you look like a cat.” he says, before pausing. “I’ll tell you when we get there.”

\---

They parted ways, Claude headed back to the library, and Byleth to their room to get as much rest as they could before they faced the next week. They knew they’d have another briefing with Rhea, and they really weren’t looking forward to that.

But first, a little planning. They sit down at their desk, and pull out their notebook, opening it to the page that they had been making notes. They could probably cross off the events that already happened.

_- ~~bandit guy at red canyon~~  
- ~~sylvains brother~~  
-ashes dad  
-tomb with the creator sword  
-sylvains brother  
-save flynn  
-battle of the eagle and lion  
-remire  
-revenge  
-sothis’ throne room  
-war starts_

Next they would be sent towards the Kingdom to kill Ashe’s adoptive father. With Catherine.

Ugh. That would cause problems. If both of them were there, Lonato and Catherine would fight, and one of them--most likely Lonato--would die. 

There was the option of siding against Catherine--

No. No, it was too early to do anything that would bring Rhea down on them. Once they had the Sword of the Creator, they could get away with a lot more. They just had to hold out until then.

Byleth lets out a slow breath. Goddess, they miss that sword.

They pick up a pencil, and start doodling shapes on the other side of the page. Maybe they could get another Knight to come with them? Maybe Jeralt? Or Shamir? Would that even be possible?

Byleth sighs, slumping on the desk. They supposed it didn’t matter too much if Lonato died or not--it’s not like they knew him, but it would upset Ashe. Also Lonato could be a useful ally in the future. 

“Are these your notes?”

Byleth turns their head to see Sothis behind them. Or, at least, her mental manifestation that Byleth could see when the two of them were alone. Byleth was never sure if it was her power that let them see, or if they were just very good at imagining it.

They stare at her for a moment. It was nice to see her, instead of simply hearing her voice. Especially after she had disappeared for a while when Byleth had told her everything that had happened to them. Now, she seemed subdued, calmer somehow.

“It is.” Byleth says.

Sothis leans closer, her eyes scanning the page. “You have another list here.” she says, pointing at the list that Byleth had labelled “DIE”. “Is that my name?” Sothis asks, her expression surprisingly neutral for such an accusation.

Byleth looks at the list. 

_DIE  
-bandit guy  
-so_

Oh. They had been about to write Solon’s name, but they can see how it was ambiguous. They write the rest of his name, before pausing, and writing another.

_DIE  
-bandit guy  
-solon  
-kronya_

Sothis peers at the names curiously. “The ones you told me about.” she says. “So, you choose their death.”

Byleth nods. “I do.”

“I support you.” she says, before sitting on Byleth’s bed. Or, at least, sort of floating above it. “It is weird. I have no memories of my so-called ancient enemies.” She pauses. “Or of my supposed children.”

“Do you remember anything?” Byleth asks.

“No.” Sothis says, looking ahead of herself. “But your words ring true. I know that is who I am. But I… I do not feel connected to that version of me.”

Byleth scoots their chair back, angling it so it faces Sothis.

“I do not feel a connection to that life, or the people in it. Our shared life is the only one I have known.” she says. “Yet I have never wondered or questioned it until the Red Canyon.” Sothis lays down on the bed sideways, propping up her head with her fist. 

“What do you want?” Byleth asks, almost hesitantly. Their lives were intertwined, connected. What if her wants went against their own? What if what she wanted was their own body? What if she wanted to take over, the same way Rhea wanted her to?

“Wipe that stupid look off your face,” Sothis snaps, and her oddly melancholic demeanor fades away into her normal moody one. “I want the same thing you do. If it is as you say, then I have already lived and died once.” She looks away, not meeting Byleth’s gaze. “From what you say. From your futures. The world is better without a Goddess.”

Byleth frowns. “But…”

Sothis snaps back, her eyes flashing. “That does not mean I wish to disappear! So, please do not fall into any traps this time around.”

Byleth nods. That, they could do.

Sothis yawns. “Have you decided to kill anyone else?” she asks. “You know, if you killed Edelgard--”

“No.” Byleth says instantly, their knuckles tightening.

Sothis blinks, her gaze slowly travelling up and down Byleth. “What a reaction!” she says curiously.

Byleth clenches their jaw. “She’s not wrong.”

Sothis stretches out on the bed. “Mm? Is this not simply about saving those you care about? Stopping the war?” She sits up, looking at Byleth, staring at Byleth with her wide, cat-like eyes. “Does right and wrong matter? You can carve your own happiness without ideals or morality standing in your way.” She waves her hand dismissively, as if to make her point.

“Fódlan is wrong.” Byleth says, their voice strained. It was hard to explain. They never had been the one to pitch the idea--it was always either Edelgard, or Claude.

Sothis nods, shifting her body to give Byleth her undivided attention. “Tell me.”

“Fódlan is messed up. So many people I know are suffering because of how it’s set up. Because of Nobility. Crests. Those Who Slither In The Dark.” Byleth takes in a slow breath. “Because of Rhea.”

Sothis folds her arms. “Then, what will you do? What is your perfect world, Byleth?”

Byleth hesitates. “The Church, as an institution, needs to be gone.” Byleth says. “The nobility--the nobility should not exist. And we should open our borders. Maybe… maybe even get rid of one.”

“Ahh, your Almyran friend.” she says, nodding. “Your ideals are noble, if not lofty.” She tilts her head, watching Byleth with an expression that Byleth can’t read.

Byleth looks at her, nervous. “Do you think it’s possible? To achieve any of it, without violence?”

“I know as much as you.” Sothis says.

Byleth leans back in their chair. They let out a slow sigh. They supposed that was about all they could expect from her, although they had been hoping for an assurance of some kind. “Sothis. Why did you come to Fódlan?”

Sothis shakes her head. “Oh, how I wish to know that, as well.”

They nod, closing their journal and standing up. There were a lot of missing pieces--what was the reason why Sothis, the Goddess, came down to Fódlan, and why _only_ Fódlan?

“I am more surprised that you do not know.” Sothis adds, standing up. Or, rather, floating a few inches off the ground. “Considering how much knowledge you have been graced with. Originally I had thought you a dunce, but I might reconsider that opinion.” she says, as if she was granting Byleth a big favor.

Byleth starts taking off their shoes. “Oh, please do, wise Goddess.” they say dryly.

“Do not sass me.” Sothis says, pointing a finger towards Byleth, before turning away. “Clearly, there is much more you must research.”

“There won’t be much to be found at Garreg Mach.” Byleth says with a sigh, before pausing. Wait. Tomas! He had given Claude the contraband reading material--maybe he could hook Byleth up, too. After all, he would just think of them as a regular mercenary, at this time.

“Well. I doubt there is another library worth visiting within a days’ travel!” Sothis huffs.

“That’s fine,” Byleth says mildly. “I have a plan.”

“You do?” Sothis asks, but Byleth ignores her.

They start putting their shoes back on, feeling slightly crestfallen. They had been looking forward to relaxing in bed.

\---

It felt like they had just left the library, but here they were, back again.

“Hello, Professor,” Linhardt greets, not looking up from his book.

Byleth pauses for a moment when they see the cover of the book. “Is that one any good?” they ask.

“Oh, yes,” he says. “Who knew that fishing lures were so intricately designed?”

Byleth makes a mental note to read that one later. They turn and walk further into the library, their eyes glancing around. No Claude--he must’ve gone somewhere else. Byleth steps through the bookshelves, searching, and--

Success. They spot Tomas, and head towards him.

“Ah! Hello, Professor,” Tomas greets amicably. “Good to see you.”

Byleth gives a polite bow of their head, instead of returning the greeting. “I had a question.”

“Oh? Do go on.”

“I was… researching,” Byleth says. “I don’t know much about the Church of Seiros.”

Tomas nods. “You certainly came to the right place. We have more knowledge about the church than anywhere in the world!”

“Yes,” Byleth begins, “but there was some information I couldn’t find. Is there any information about the Goddess?”

Tomas raises his eyebrows. “Of course there is. What kind of information were you looking for?”

“Why she only influenced Fódlan. And where she came from.”

Tomas nods again, as if this were a very typical question. “I see.” he says. “Yes, I think I have some material for you. I’ll need to find it--meet me next week, and I’ll have that book for you.”

“Thank you.” Byleth says. Tomas wasn’t someone they really interacted with before. They wondered how this would end up. There was a chance that nothing would come out of this.

They turn and head back, their pace picking up. The sun was starting to head down, and at this moment, Byleth just wanted to prop their feet up while lying in bed. They make a beeline to their room, heading inside and closing the door. They take their shoes off again, before taking off the rest of their outfit, before putting on a large, plain shirt. Byleth didn’t have pajamas, per se, but they did have extra clothes that various members of their mercenary team had passed on to Byleth at various points in time, especially because they tended to be shorter and more slender than the other mercenaries.

The clothes were comfy, if not sometimes large and full of holes.

Neither Jeralt nor Byleth knew much about sewing, or any kind of clothing upkeep.

Byleth stretches out on the bed before stifling a yawn.

It wasn’t late enough to actually sleep--Goddess forbid they would skip dinner--but they wanted to relax for a bit. It was a habit they had built over the second time around. Byleth had started to really take full advantage of having a room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you ever think about how MANY characters there are in FE3H?  
> OTL


	7. Restless

_You lie on the floor in chains. Above, colors of the rainbow, flicker, solidifying until it overpowers you with a white glow. The glow gets stronger, until the floor falls away from you, turning into the sea._

_Then, you are flying, flying across the sea, lightning crashing above. Fleeing from the white, from the colors, from the lightning._

_Behind, flickers of blue and white, and you push onwards. Terror strikes your heart, but also hatred._

_You fly, and fly, and fly, and the sky melts with the sea and you are flying and crashing and the sea turns into mountains and you fall, fall to the mountains and crash--_

“Ah!” Byleth says, sitting upright in their bed. Their chest heaves as they pant, gripping their bed sheets tightly. It was a nightmare, but nothing that made sense. Now that Byleth was awake, they couldn’t even explain how it had been terrifying, except that it had been.

“No! Augh!” Sothis says, suddenly rising awake, as well. “No, no, no, let me go!” She fights with an invisible enemy, struggling for a moment before realizing her phantom enemy was gone. “Oh.” she says, squinting for a moment at the room.

“Bad dream?” Byleth offers.

Sothis nods. “Yes. It was… I think it was something that happened to me, long ago.” she murmurs. “It all felt so real, like I was still there.” She looks down at her lap, as if concentrating on something.

“I had a dream, too.” Byleth says. “What if it was the same one?”

Sothis looks at Byleth as if seeing them for the first time. “Well? What was it?” she says impatiently, folding her arms.

Byleth shifts. “Erm… it’s a bit blurry, but there was a bright blue light, and a lot of flying over the ocean.”

Sothis looks at Byleth as though she might hit them. “Really?!” she shrieks, standing up. “ _That_ is how you describe it all! Simplifying that witch into a ‘blue light’! Why--I’ve never been so offended!”

Byleth scoots back from her. “Who--who’s the witch?” they ask.

Sothis glares for a moment, before settling back down. “It’s…” she says, and her expression melts into uncertainty. “I… I don’t know.” Sothis admits. “All I can remember is that I deeply hated her.”

Byleth rubs their temples. They’ve never had this kind of dream before. Maybe it was because they told Sothis about her identity right away? “Just keep trying to remember,” Byleth mumbles, before giving a yawn. “It seems important.”

“Isn’t everything?” Sothis says with a huff.

Byleth nods sleepily. It really was. They flop back in bed.

“Don’t go to sleep.” Sothis orders, before hesitating. “I… do not wish to be left alone.” she admits, her voice more subdued. 

Byleth takes in and lets out a slow breath, before sitting back up. Had the nightmare affected her that much? In that case, they couldn’t just ignore her. And, it wasn’t such a big deal for them to stay up, anyway. After all--they were starting to get hungry. And, it was clear from the darkness of their room that they had missed dinner.

“Okay,” Byleth says, standing up. They give a stretch, before slipping on a baggy pair of shorts. “I’m going to get something from the dining hall.” they say, sliding on a pair of slippers.

Sothis nods, a relieved look passing her face.

Byleth opens the door, taking a short moment for their eyes to adjust to the light of the moon. Garreg Mach was nice at night. Peaceful. Byleth stretches again, before stepping out, glancing at the moon for a moment, before taking a few steps before--

“Ahhh!” The sound of a girl’s screams come from very close. Oh. While looking at the sky, they had walked right into someone. Byleth’s gaze immediately snaps down to see who it was, only to realize it was Lysithea.

“Oh... Professor!” Lysithea says, and her angry expression quickly melts into relief, almost mirroring how Sothis’ had, earlier. Lysithea was out of breath, and her face was a bit red from the scream. “I thought you were… anyway, um… good evening, Professor!”

Byleth nods. “Good evening.” they say.

Lysithea shifts. “I was just heading to the dining hall, to get something I forgot.” she admits.

“I was headed there, too.” Byleth says mildly.

Lysithea bristles. “I don’t need an escort. I’m fine going on my own!”

Byleth blinks, looking at Lysithea for a moment. They had just woken up. They were too tired to try to navigate whatever emotional landmine they had stepped on, here. “Uh. Okay.” Byleth says, taking a step to the side.

The girl hesitates. “But… I guess if we’re both going there, then there’s nothing to be done…”

Byleth nods, before starting to walk.

“Wait!” Lysithea says, doing a little jog to catch up with Byleth. 

The two of them walk in silence. 

Byleth starts thinking about what they want to make for dinner. They had caught a lot of fish the other day. They could easily whip up something with that.

“S--so, um…” Lysithea says, glancing over at Byleth. “Can we talk about something?”

“Hm?” Byleth says, their thoughts pulled from fish to the girl next to them.

Lysithea shifts again. “Okay, you got me! I’m scared of ghosts. Can we talk about something so that it’s not silent?”

Byleth blinks. Oh, it was this conversation. “Does talking scare ghosts away?”

“It…” she trails off with a frown. “Yes. It does.” Lysithea says. “Please don’t tell anyone, okay? I don’t want people to know that I have such a childish fear.”

“Alois is scared of ghosts,” Byleth says, glancing over at the white-haired girl. “So is Ashe. Maybe I should form a club for you guys.”

Lysithea stares for a moment. “Alois is scared of ghosts?” she repeats slowly. She looks ahead of herself, before nodding. “...Thank you, Professor. That is reassuring to know.” She doesn’t look unafraid, anymore, but she no longer looks ashamed.

“Any time,” Byleth says, not sure what they did to deserve the thanks. 

The two of them enter the dining hall, and Lysithea starts looking around at the tables. She motions for Byleth to follow her, and they comply.

“You know, you treat everyone pretty equally.” Lysithea says, while she looks. “Even though I’m younger, you don’t treat me that way.”

“Huh?” Byleth says.

Lysithea looks at them. “You didn’t realize? I’m younger than the other students by two to three years.”

“You’re the same age as Petra.” Byleth says, tilting their head.

Lysithea stares, a surprised expression on her face. 

Byleth stares back. She didn’t know?

Lysithea pouts for a moment. “Why is she so much taller than me, then?” she mutters angrily, before picking up a notebook. “Oh, here it is.” she says. “I’ll be going. Goodnight, Professor.”

Byleth gives a wave. “Have a good night.” they say, heading over to the kitchen side of the dining hall. 

Lysithea watches for a moment. “Oh, you weren’t kidding.” she says. She stays there for a second longer to watch Byleth, before turning to leave.

Byleth doesn’t mind her, instead pulling out a pan and setting it on the stove. They head to the cold stores, grabbing a fish, pulling it to the counter. They go through the motions--debone the fish, put a little bit of oil in the pan and turn on the stove, toss in some aromatics--garlic, some onion, and more garlic. Byleth didn't start off as a great cook, or even a good one, but they had learned over time. In this particular instance, they couldn’t help but remember Dedue very seriously telling them that there was no such thing as too much garlic.

The vegetables sizzle, and Byleth pokes at them with a spatula.

“Wow, it smells amazing in here!”

Byleth turns to see a certain troublemaker walking into the dining hall.

Sylvain stops when he gets close enough to see who was doing the cooking. “Oh, Professor?” he says, his eyes wide, but his expression melts into a grin. “You look good in those clothes.”

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Byleth asks, ignoring the comment. They didn’t know if there was actually any kind of curfew at the Officer’s Academy, but it wasn’t that common to see students out late at night.

Sylvain grins. “I’ll catch up on sleep later, promise.” he says, leaning against the counter. “You know, it must be destiny that both of us--”

Byleth slams a knife down on the cutting board.

Sylvain winces, standing up straight. “Just joking, Professor!” he says, before pausing. “But seriously, I can’t believe I never talked with such a cute--”

“Sylvain.” Byleth says sharply.

Sylvain puts up his hands. “Okay, okay!” he says. “So harsh.”

“Your reputation precedes you.” Byleth says, as they slide the fish onto the pan.

Sylvain sighs. “That’s a little embarrassing.” he admits, before his gaze drifts to the pan. “Seriously, Professor, that smells amazing. What are you making?”

“Pan fried fish.” Byleth says, before pausing. “Do you want some?” It felt rude to not offer any.

“Nah, I don’t want to take your dinner.” Sylvain says, with a crooked smile. “You were missing during dinner time, right?”

Oh, so someone had noticed. That was surprising. Some times Byleth felt like a ghost, moving through people until they went up to someone, themselves. People didn’t tend to interact, or notice Byleth. But Sylvain always was an exceptionally sharp guy.

“Yeah. I saw Edelgard’s scary guy looking around for you.” Sylvain says.

Byleth blinks. “Hubert?”

“Sure, him.” he says with a shrug.

Byleth stares for a moment. He didn’t even know Hubert’s name? Wait, why was Hubert looking for them? Was he going to threaten them, again? “I was asleep.” Byleth says, turning back to their fish. “What are you doing up so late, Sylvain?”

“I was just visiting a friend.” he says, glancing over at the fish.

Byleth raises an eyebrow. He really was a smooth liar, wasn’t he? “A girl?” Byleth guesses.

Sylvain gives a laugh, although it sounds a little forced. “You know me well, Professor.” he says. “Word must travel fast at Garreg Mach.”

Byleth nods, flipping the fish over. Sylvain was an interesting one--he had a pretty rough childhood because of Crests, but he never put the blame on Crests. Instead, he had pinned the blame on women. Byleth’s eyes remain on the fish, watching it sizzle.

“How do you like your current class?” Byleth says, their eyes on the fish.

Sylvain straightens up, a smile spreading on his face. “Well, Professor Hanneman isn’t bad. But there’s some things that can only be taught by someone as… _experienced_ as yourself.”

Byleth lets out a long sigh. “Can’t you say it normally?”

“Sure. Mind if I join your class?” Sylvain asks.

Byleth takes the fish off the pan, moving it to a plate. “Okay.” they say.

Sylvain opens his mouth, before closing it. “Oh. Really?” he asks in disbelief. “Wow, this should be fun. There’s a lot of cute girls from the Empire.”

“No flirting during class.” Byleth says.

Sylvain puts a hand to his chest. “I’ll be a model student, promise.”

Byleth takes their plate and grabs a fork, before walking to the table. Sylvain follows them. “Aren’t you tired?” Byleth asks, before taking a bite. They close their eyes for a moment, enjoying the flavor.

“Nah,” he says. He watches Byleth eat, tilting his head. “Wow. I didn’t know you could make that kind of face.” Sylvain says, sitting across the table from Byleth. “Must be really good.”

“It is.” Byleth says, frowning. They hoped they hadn’t been making an embarrassing expression. Not that they really cared, since the only one to see them would be Sylvain. 

Oh. They should probably start a conversation, before Sylvain brings up something stupid again. “Why do you flirt so much?” Byleth asks, before taking another bite.

Sylvain blinks, tilting his head. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I?” he says, as if Byleth had asked a very stupid question. “What man wouldn’t be affected by all the beautiful flowers at the monastery? Present company included, of course.”

“Every other man here.” Byleth says dryly. How could he go around saying such corny things? Byleth almost felt like gagging. 

Sylvain scoffs. “They’re just missing out, then.” he says. 

“Spend more time studying, Sylvain.” Byleth scolds, but their tone was not unkind. “I think you have a lot of potential.”

Sylvain blinks, before smirking. “Well, yeah. I have a Crest.”

Byleth sets down their fork..

“Do you think that matters?”

“What?” Sylvain says, shifting in his seat. He looks at Byleth warily, as though they were speaking a different language. “Of course it does, Professor.”

“It doesn’t.” Byleth says, folding their arms. “It never will.” They take a bite of their food, and chew angrily for a moment, before speaking up again. “What would you do if you didn’t have a Crest?”

Sylvain lets out a loud, humorless laugh. “Professor. With all due respect, I don’t think I’d be me.”

Good point. He probably wouldn’t. Byleth thinks for a moment, trying to decide on what to say. Sylvain was somehow simultaneously one of the easiest people to meet but the hardest to get to know. They had to pick their words carefully.

“Sylvain, I want you to have something about yourself that makes you proud. Something you made with your own hands.” Byleth says.

Sylvain raises his eyebrows.

Byleth sighs. “You don’t have to. But please give it a thought, at least.” they say.

Sylvain slowly nods, before pausing. “Professor… do you have a Crest?”

“I do.” Byleth says.

Sylvain nods again, looking into the distance with a frown. “I’ll… think about it, Professor.” he says, standing up from the table. He stretches, giving an exaggerated yawn. “Looks like it’s about time for me to go to sleep! Goodnight, Professor.” he says, before heading out.

“ _You must really enjoy agitating people._ ” Sothis says.

Byleth shrugs. “He bothered me, first.”

\---

Byleth finished their meal and washed up their dishes, before leaving to head back to the rooms. They probably should try to go back to sleep--it wasn’t like they had anything else to do, and they had to be up early the next day to get their monthly briefing from Rhea. Although, they had just eaten--maybe they should work it off a bit? It wasn’t supposed to be good to go to sleep immediately after eating, although Jeralt often ignored that, and Byleth had ended picking up that bad habit, as well.

They head towards the dorms, pausing for a moment, before heading upstairs. They weren’t going anywhere in particular, but they really shouldn’t go to bed immediately. Besides, the view from the second floor was nice. It was one of the places with the best views. The nobles really had it nice. 

They make it about halfway across the hallway before they hear noises from one of the rooms. It sounded like someone moaning in pain?

“ _A ghost?_ ” Sothis guesses. 

Byleth stares at her. 

“ _What?_ ” she asks, offended. “ _You and I both know I am no ghost._ ”

Byleth shakes their head, before looking at the direction of the source of the noise. Oh, they were getting massive deja vu. This was something that had happened before. And, if they weren’t wrong…

This was Edelgard’s room.

Byleth knocks on the door. “Edelgard?” they say softly, hoping to not wake up anyone else.

“Ah!” A small scream comes from the room, and there’s a lot of shuffling before Edelgard opens the door, her normally calculated look completely frumpled, and her hair sticking everywhere. “Oh, Professor…?” she says, squinting at Byleth as if she might still be dreaming.

Byleth nods. “Edelgard. Is everything all right?”

She flushes slightly. “Oh. I must’ve been talking in my sleep.” she says, rubbing her temples. She steps aside, motioning for Byleth to enter.

“What was it?” Byleth says. They already knew the answer, but they didn’t know what else to say. Edelgard’s family was everything to her--this was the first step they needed to take before she could trust them.

Edelgard shuts the door behind her. “I… had a nightmare.” she admits. “I’ve had them ever since I was little. It’s nothing for you to be concerned about.”

Byleth folds their arms. “You can lean on me, even a little.” they offer.

Edelgard hesitates, before sitting down on her bed. “It was about my family.” she says. Her voice is soft but her gaze doesn’t stray away from Byleth. “My older brother, cut open while blood pooled under him. My older sister, screaming hysterically. The youngest babbling incoherently until her throat dried up. I see my family dying slowly, trapped in the dark with no end in sight.”

She closes her eyes for a moment, before opening them again, looking at Byleth with a steely gaze.

“It’s not well known, but I actually came from a large family. Ten siblings, eight older and two younger. Do you know why I am the heir?”

“How did this happen?” Byleth asks softly. 

Edelgard shakes her head. “They were trapped by forces of darkness so great that they could not be resisted.”

“I see.” they say, before pausing. “I’m sorry.”

Edelgard looks at them, her expression softening for a moment, looking almost close to tears, before her face turns stony. “I’m the only one left. The only one who can carry the weight of the Adrestian Empire, the only one who will lead the future.”

“I’m sure they’d be proud of you.” Byleth whispers. They hope, one day, she will be comfortable enough to cry with them.

Edelgard hesitates a moment, before shaking her head. “Thank you,” she says, “But I think I… overshared. I’ve never told anyone about my past before.” she says, but her voice is more thoughtful than regretful. “Please. Never tell anyone what you heard, here.”

“I promise.” Byleth says, before pausing. “Maybe, in return, I could tell you something about myself?” It wasn’t something they had ever tried doing before, but… maybe, just this once, they wanted to be known as someone. Not a tactician, not a professor, not as some glorified second coming of the Goddess, but as Byleth.

Edelgard stares for a moment, her eyes suddenly lit with curiosity. “Please do.” she says.

“I’ve…” Byleth begins slowly. They’ve never told anyone about their life. Their past, their feelings--sure, Sothis got to see their life firsthand, but nobody really knew Byleth’s inner life. “I’ve never been treated like a child.” they say, sitting next to Edelgard on the bed.

“Jeralt… he was good. But he never acted like a father.” Byleth says. “He taught me how to use a sword, but nothing else.” They shift, looking down at their hands, clenched in their lap. “I know how you feel. A weapon, sharpened and honed for one purpose only.” Byleth looks back up at Edelgard.

Edelgard looks at Byleth with a small frown. As always, her emotions were tightly controlled. Byleth couldn’t tell what she was feeling, but she remained silent, watching Byleth with an unreadable expression.

Byleth suddenly feels so, incredibly, utterly stupid. 

They look ahead of themselves. “But, everything’s fine now. Being at the monastery is nice.” they say quickly, their face turning a slight red. Goddess, what they hell were they saying? Nobody cared about their life story. There were millions of mercenaries in the world with the same, cookie-cutter story about having to fight their whole life.

“It’s not fair you had to live that way,” Edelgard says quietly. “You and Jeralt are both incredibly talented. You and he deserved to live a life that rewarded those efforts, instead of struggling.”

Byleth nods, still feeling horribly embarrassed. 

Edelgard shifts. “I’m… sorry. I’m not very good at relating to the problems of others’ without thinking about the systematic issue that caused their suffering.” she says. “I suppose that’s my duty as the future Emperor. Still, I…” She trails off. “We haven’t had similar lives, but we might be… kindred spirits.”

Byleth nods, before covering their head in their hands. “Yes.” they say. “We might.” Byleth stands up, straightening their posture. “Ah. Goodnight, Edelgard.” they say, giving a curt nod.

“Goodnight, Professor.” Edelgard says, standing to see them off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I borrowed a lot from the game when it comes to Edelgard's C support, but I really believe that's the only possible way she can truly open up to someone--by talking about her family. And it's not something she'd bring up willingly.
> 
> I promise things will be more and more different in the future!
> 
> & sorry for this being so slow paced! There's a LOT of people at Garreg Mach. The cast will go down once a certain thing happens.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments and Kudos are read & appreciated <3


	8. Connections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of stuff happens, and it's not even the weekend!

“We have a new mission for you, Professor,” Rhea says, her voice gentle and sweet as always. She looks at Byleth with such an adoring gaze. They wonder if she looks at everyone like that. It would certainly explain why Cyril and Catherine acted like that when it came to Rhea.

“We’ve received reports that Lord Lonato has rallied troops against the Church of Seiros.” Seteth says, his demeanor the exact opposite of Rhea’s. If Rhea was curves and honey, Seteth was all angles and bark. He looks at Byleth with a frown on his stony face.

“Is he acting alone?” Byleth asks, ignoring Seteth’s expression.

Rhea’s smile fades slightly. “Hm.” she says thoughtfully, but she didn’t seem as if she was actually considering the question. “He has harbored resentment towards the Church for quite some time now. I believe it would be… hasty to imagine co-conspirators.”

Byleth nods. Well, whatever. They weren’t interested in trying to convince Rhea otherwise. It’s not like it really meant much, in the grand scheme of things.

“ _She’s confident_ ,” Sothis remarks.

“We have already sent out the Knights of Seiros to Lord Lonato’s stronghold. They have likely already quenched the rebellion at this time.” Seteth adds. “Your students are tasked with helping the rear knights clean up the aftermath. We do not expect them to run into any danger, but war zones can be uncertain.”

Byleth opens their mouth to say something, but they never get the chance.

“Excuse me. You called for me, Lady Rhea?” A tall, tanned woman with blonde hair asks, striding confidently into the room. She gives a casual nod to Seteth, who does a very good job of ignoring it.

Rhea nods graciously. “Ah, yes.” she says. “Professor, this is Catherine. She will be the head of the knights escorting you and your students for this mission.”

Catherine turns to Byleth, giving them a curt nod. “Looking forward to working with you, Professor. I’ve heard a lot about you.” she says, looking at Byleth for another moment, before turning back to Rhea. “Leave it to me, Lady Rhea. I won’t let you down.”

“Thank you, Catherine.” Rhea says, shooting the woman a warm smile. Catherine seems to stand up straighter, beaming in return. 

Byleth looks between them. Well. There went any plan of swapping out Catherine with another Knight.

Rhea turns back to Byleth. “Catherine is one of the greatest Knights of Seiros, so you have no need to worry.” she says.

Catherine looks like she’s fighting back a smile.

“This mission will be useful in demonstrating to your students what happens to those who turn their blades on the Church.” Rhea says, her voice and face still sweet, despite her words.

“ _Ugh. She could not sound more ominous if she tried._ ” Sothis mutters.

“Yes. Thank you, Archbishop.” Byleth says, giving a slight bow. “I will prepare.” They head out of the Archbishop’s room.

_It is quite funny to see you capable of decorum._ Sothis comments, before shooting a look at Rhea. _She has become quite strategic, has she not? I am almost proud._

“Proud?” Byleth says, their eyebrows shooting up.

Sothis blinks. “ _Proud? Hm, yes, I am proud. What a funny thing to feel about that woman._ ” she says, although she sounds more amused than anything. “ _Perhaps I am regaining my motherly tendencies._ ” she says.

The corners of Byleth’s mouth turn up. Sothis? Motherly?

“ _Stop that look at once!_ ” Sothis says stiffly, folding her arms. “ _It is entirely possible._ ”

“Byleth…?” A voice says, and Byleth's head snaps to look in front of them, their slight smile disappearing. Only one person ever called them that. And of course it had to be him.

Jeralt stands in front of them, his eyebrows raised as far up as Byleth had ever seen, his expression looking as if Byleth had just run out in front of him screaming.

“Were you just…” he says, staring.

Byleth has a sudden rush of gratitude that they didn’t blush easily. Goddess, how embarrassing. What kind of fool would smile to themself while simply walking down a hallway? Byleth fakes a quick cough. “Hello, Jeralt.” they say.

Jeralt looks at Byleth for one more moment, before giving a quick shake of his head, as if to rid himself of the thought. “How was the briefing with Rhea?” he asks, before motioning Byleth to follow him to his office. 

“Fine.” they say. “We’ll be heading to the west, towards Castle Gaspard. Seems like a cleanup job.”

Jeralt nods. “Yeah. The rebellion.” he says. “Rhea has me on other duties, otherwise I’d come along.” He lets out a sigh. “Well, whatever pays, I guess.” he says, leaning against the desk.

Well. There went the sad remains of their plan to have Jeralt swap out with Catherine. There was no way they could get that to happen, now. They’d have to plan for something else. Byleth glances out the window with a frown. What else could they do? Was there any way to get Lonato alone? Their gaze drifts as they think, and they find themselves staring at the bookshelf.

It was weird to see Jeralt in a room with so many books. It didn’t suit him at all. They always wondered how he ended up here. “Isn’t this the Knight Captain’s office?” they ask.

Jeralt lets out a short laugh. “Yeah. Being here is like I never left.” he says. “Alois tells me that I technically never lost rank. Otherwise, it’d be his office.”

Ah. They’d always wondered why he set up shop here. They figured it had something to do with Alois.

Jeralt looks at Byleth for a moment, before glancing away. “Keep it up, kid. Another day, another duty.” he pauses. “Let me know if you need help with anything.”

“Alright.” Byleth says. Was that his way of being supportive? 

_Good Gods, you two are the worst conversationalists I have ever seen!_ ” Sothis groans. “ _And here I thought coming to the monastery meant I would never be subjected to this again!_ ”

Byleth has to agree.

“Hey. You’ve met Leonie, right?” Jeralt says suddenly.

They pause, trying to remember if they have in this timeline. “No.” they say eventually.

Jeralt nods. “She’s a good kid. Short orange hair. I think you’d get along with her.” he says. “Maybe… help each other.” he adds with another nod.

“Alright.” Byleth says. They liked Leonie. She was a breath of fresh air in the monastery--someone who came from a similar social status as themselves, and didn’t have the worries of knights or nobility. Not that she didn’t have worries, but they were ones to which Byleth could easily relate.

Jeralt stands up straight. “That’s all.” he says.

Byleth nods. They turn and head out.

They don’t get far.

“Oh, Professor Byleth! Just the person I was looking for.” Hanneman’s smiling face leans out of his office. “Are you busy?” he asks innocently. It looked like he had been waiting for Byleth to leave Jeralt’s office. They wonder how long he had been waiting there.

“No,” Byleth says, because they were fairly fond of Hanneman.

Hanneman nods, trying to contain his eagerness. “You see, I’ve been working on your mystery Crest--may I ask you a few questions?”

Byleth nods again. 

Hannaman leads Byleth into his office. “Please, sit down.” he says, motioning to a chair before grabbing a notebook from his desk and sitting down, himself.

Byleth sits down. Oh? Was he going to question them about their past, already? Didn’t this usually happen later? How has he had the chance to research their past, already?

Hanneman strokes his beard. “Do you know anything about your lineage?” he asks.

Byleth blinks. Huh? They don’t remember this question. “Why not ask Jeralt? His office is next to yours.” they say.

“Yes,” Hanneman says with a sigh. “But he refused to let me test him for Crests. Or talk about them at all. And, he kept saying he ‘doesn’t remember’ any time I asked him about family!” he says with a huff. “Some people have no respect for my work.”

Oh. Jeralt did? Now that he mentioned it, did Jeralt have any family? They would likely all be dead by now, wouldn’t they? They should ask him, later.

Right, Hanneman. Jeralt’s crest was something that always had been unknown, even to Byleth until they learned from Rhea how his life was extended. They’re not sure if it was a secret or not, but it bothered them that he never told them. He _technically_ never said it was a secret, either. 

Byleth silently throws caution to the wind in favor of stirring up a little trouble for Jeralt.

“Actually,” Byleth begins, pausing a moment. “He has a Crest of Seiros.”

Hanneman’s eyes practically bulge out of his head. “Is that so?” he asks, furiously scribbling something in his notebook. “Now, I must ask this--you are being serious with me, Professor?”

“Yes.” Byleth says. “I’m always serious.”

Hanneman nods solemnly. “From what I’ve seen, that is true,” he says. “Did you know your… mother? Please stop me if that is a sensitive topic.”

“It’s fine.” Byleth says. “I never knew her.” they say, before pausing. How much could they tell Hanneman? 

“My condolences.” he says with a frown.

Byleth shifts in their seat. They didn’t like talking about their mother. There just wasn’t much to say.

Hanneman looks down at his notes, muttering to himself.. “Interesting… how is it possible… Crest of Seiros… who _is_ Jeralt?”

Byleth sits patiently for a few minutes, before Hanneman finally looks back up. “Oh! Professor. Excuse me--I got a little… excited.” he says, standing up. “Before you leave, could you donate a little blood? It would help immensely with my research.” He awaits Byleth’s answer with an eager expression.

Byleth can’t say no. They really are soft for these people. They silently drop a bit of blood on Hanneman’s crest analyzer.

“Thank you, Professor.” Hanneman says with a cheerful smile, before turning to a wall filled with charts of crests.

Byleth takes the cue to leave.

\---

They only make it to the first floor before they get stopped, yet again.

“Spar me.” Felix demands, standing in front of Byleth, and looking very much like he wasn’t planning to move from the spot.

“ _My my, aren’t you popular?_ ” Sothis says, the smirk clear in her voice.

Byleth looks at him for a moment. They were actually fairly fond of Felix, despite his demeanor. Besides, a spar might be… fun?

Why the hell not?

“Okay.” they say. They start walking to the training grounds.

Felix’s expression doesn’t change, but he walks besides them. “You were impressive during the mock battle.” he says simply, as if it were a fact. “But I want to spar with steel.”

“Alright.” Byleth says. They were best with swords, anyway. It certainly wasn’t as flashy--well, until they would get the Creator Sword, then it was incredibly flashy--but it was effective. Something that both Byleth and Felix were familiar with.

“You have an interesting strategy.” he notes. “Very refreshing, in this place full of nobles that are better at making tea than swinging a sword.” he adds, his words so full of scorn that Byleth half expected him to spit after speaking. They supposed it wasn’t something a noble would do, but it was common at mercenary camps.

“Yes,” Byleth agrees. “Fighting for your life hones your blade like no other.” they comment mildly.

“I agree.” Felix says, his gaze straight ahead. “Fight to live, and live to get stronger.” His eyes narrow, a dark fire in his eyes.

“Is that why you fight? For your life?” Byleth asks, glancing over at him for a moment before looking ahead, themselves.

Felix frowns. “Yes.” he says. “Isn’t that what’s important?”

“Is it?” Byleth says, more of an observation than a question. They open the large doors to the training grounds and step inside.

Felix scoffs, folding his arms. “Oh? Then, what’s important to you, Professor?”

“My goals. My ideals.” they say simply.

Felix narrows his eyes. “I expected more from you, Professor. Will your ideals keep you warm? Will they save you from a blade? What good are ideals if you die?”

“True. They might not save me.” Byleth admits. “But they can save thousands, if my ideals are the ones that keep others warm, or save others from a blade.”

Felix stops walking. “How naive.” he says, his face contorted in a sneer. “What’s the point of dying for someone else?”

“Naive?” Byleth shoots back, their expression hardening. They had honestly forgotten how rude Felix was. It was refreshing, in its own way. “Then, are you happy with how things are, now?” 

Felix’s expression freezes. “What does it matter if I’m happy? I’m alive, and I aim to keep it that way.” he says roughly, suddenly moving forward, and shoving past Byleth. “Grab a training sword. I want to see if your sword is as strong as your _ideals_.”

“I will.” Byleth says, the corner of their mouth twitching upwards in the ghost of a smirk. 

Their swords swing through the air. It takes a moment for Byleth to adjust to the weight and balance of a training sword, but in no time they move with ease. Felix is talented, and he was stronger than Byleth, but they were swifter, dodging his attacks with ease while landing their own. The both of them stay cool, level headed, trading blows until Byleth points their blade at his throat.

\---

Felix sulks after his defeat, but his pride doesn’t get in the way of asking for tips, something which Byleth can’t help but admire. He may be stubborn as a mule, but his words weren’t for show--strength truly was the singular most important thing to him. In no time, the sparring match quickly became an impromptu training session.

“I see,” Felix says, practicing the latest tip Byleth had given him. “You know, Professor.” he begins. “You never told me what your ideals were.”

“I thought you didn’t care.” Byleth says, raising a brow.

Felix frowns. “I don’t.” he says. “I just want to know if they’re really worth your life.”

Byleth pauses, moving their sword in a direct strike to a dummy. “Equality.” they say.

It's a radical notion for the time, but Byleth felt that it wouldn’t bother Felix. “Men--women, nobles, peasants, knights. People of Fódlan, of Almyra, of Duscur. Are we not all people, with intricate lives, thoughts, feelings?”

Felix stops mid swing, looking at Byleth as though they sprouted a third head. 

“Aren’t our lives worth the same?” Byleth asks, their eyes still forward, their arms moving their training sword to hit the dummy. Again. And again. “Why should we die for a King? Why should only the few be born with money and status?”

Felix copies the move. “That would go against the teachings of the church.” he says--not an accusation, but a comment.

“Then, so be it.” They hit again.

Felix’s gaze breaks from the dummy to look at Byleth, narrowing his eyes to give them a scrutinizing look. “You’re crazy.” he says eventually, but a slight smirk spreads across his face. “But those aren’t the _worst_ ideals I’ve heard.”

“ _Huh! I have to agree with him._ ” Sothis says. “ _Interesting ideals from one as dull as yourself._ ”

Byleth keeps a neutral expression. She really could be mean. “That’s all for now, Felix.” they say, taking their practice sword and putting it away. “I’m going to get dinner. You should, too.”

“In a bit.” Felix says dismissively. His eyes flick between his sword, his feet, his dummy opponent. He moves through the motions, again and again, each perfect.

Byleth shoots one last glance before turning away. They hope he gets something to eat, eventually. They take their leave, slipping their hands in their pockets.

He’d understand, eventually.

\---

Byleth walks into the dinner hall, glancing around. It looks like most of the students were still in line to get their food. Good. They already had an idea of who they wanted their dining companions to be.

Byleth makes a beeline towards Petra, who was near the end of the line. “Petra,” Byleth greets, giving a small wave.

Petra perks up, shooting a smile. “Hello, Professor.” she says. “It is good to be seeing you for dinner.”

“Yes.” Byleth says in return, before pausing. “Do you have dinner plans? There’s someone I’d like to introduce you to.”

Petra brightens up. “No Professor, I am free.” she says. “Please, introduce away.”

The two of them grab the meal of the day. 

“I am enjoying meeting new people.” Petra comments, as she follows Byleth as they weave through the dining hall. “A large purpose of my stay here is to make connections.”

“Then, you’ll like this one.” Byleth leads her over to a certain house leader, and sits directly in front of him.

Claude blinks, and his hand stops with his fork halfway to his mouth. “Hey, Teach.” he says, slowly putting his fork down, his gaze moving between Byleth and Petra, eventually lingering on her for a few moments. His expression perks up, and he shoots Byleth a grateful smile. “Petra! You know, I’m really glad Teach brought you over. I’ve been meaning to have a chat.”

Petra nods, sitting down next to Byleth. “I have also been wanting to speak.” she says. “You are very unique, Claude.”

Claude puts a hand over his heart. “Thank you.” He pauses. “I think. That… _was_ a compliment, right?”

“It was.” Petra says, very seriously. “I do not like saying words with hidden meanings.”

Claude leans against the table, resting his chin against his face. “Because of your grasp on the language? Or because of your personality?”

Petra pauses for a moment. “I am not that kind of person.” she says. “As you say, my personality. But, maybe it is a little of both!” she adds with a small laugh.

“Then you’re a better person than me,” Claude says with a sigh. “Don’t let anyone take advantage of you because of that, okay?”

Petra looks at Claude for a moment, her smile fading slightly. “Please, do not consider me naive.” she says, her expression frustrated for a short moment, before she shakes her head. “This language makes me sound like a child. But I am not a child.”

Claude nods. “Right, of course.” he says. He takes a bite of his meal and chews for a moment. 

Petra takes the chance to start eating, as well. There’s a moment of quiet as they all eat, before Claude eventually speaks up.

“Y’know, I’ve been wondering,” he begins, “Almyra and Dadga share a common language with Fódlan. What makes Brigid different?”

“Brigid’s history had many years separated from the world.” Petra explains. “Brigid would stay separate, if it had not been dragged into the war by Dagda, and later the Adrestian Empire.” She gives a nod. “But, Brigid must move forward if we are to stand on the same mountain as Fódlan and Dagda.”

Claude rubs his chin. “Huh.” he says. “So, you’re here to learn from Fódlan?”

Petra nods. “It is a surprise to me that Fódlan is not far from Brigid when it comes to technology.” she says. “Dagda can be creating explosions and powerful balls of fire. But Fódlan does not have much different weaponry from Brigid.” She pauses. “Except for the magics. Fódlan has Faith magic, which is not seen in Brigid, or Dagda. Dark magic is also very rare in Dagda, but common in Fódlan.”

“Hm,” Claude says, listening to Petra, and leaning in slightly. “That’s… really interesting. It makes sense. Fódlan’s Faith magic seems tied to belief in its Goddess. I’ve heard that Almyra also doesn’t use Faith magic.” he says. He thinks for a moment, taking another bite of his food. “Color me as surprised as you. It’s also weird that Fódlan doesn’t seem to use war machines, like catapults or battering rams,” he mutters.

“I did not know surprised was a color.” Petra comments.

Byleth listens intently to the conversation which was, quite honestly, blowing their mind. Was the technology of Fódlan really that behind Dagda and Almyra? Was Faith magic not a thing in other countries…? They honestly had no clue. Not that it was surprising--they knew very little of Fódlan before becoming a Professor, and much less about the rest of the world.

“Alright, enough war talk.” Claude says, shooting Petra a smile. “What’s the religion of Brigid?”

Petra perks up. “We hold beliefs that the spirits of nature are all around us.” she says, simply. She pauses a moment, before gesturing to the mark on her cheek. “This is a prayer to the forest spirits. A prayer of protection.” She puts her arm down. “Some hunters pray to the forest spirits for a safe and bountiful hunt.”

“I see,” Claude says. He leans closer, lowering his voice slightly. “Does that affect magic at all, the way the Fódlan Goddess does?”

Petra nods. “In a little way. It provides… ah, I do not think this word is common in Fódlan, but in Dagda, it is called Anima. Spending a long time in dedication to the spirits cultivates a powerful Anima energy.”

Claude folds his arms. “Oh yeah, I’ve heard of Anima. For some reason, they call it ‘Reason’ in Fódlan.” he says.

Byleth blinks. Another thing they didn’t know. They continue to eat their food, feeling slightly that they were eavesdropping, despite physically being in the middle of it.

“Oh! I see.” Petra says, beaming. “Claude, you are full of knowledge.”

Claude grins. “Aw, thanks.” he says.

Byleth moves their fork to stab another piece of food, only to realize they had eaten their whole dinner. That meant it was time to move on, wasn’t it? Claude and Petra seemed to be getting along just fine, and, as interesting as the conversation was, they could ask either of them about it, later.

Byleth stands up. “I’ll be heading off.”

“Oop! Sorry, Teach. We kinda left you out there, huh?” Claude says, shooting a crooked grin.

“I will be seeing you later, Professor.” Petra says. 

Claude gives a wave as Byleth heads out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes:  
> Brigid was likely an isolationist country, considering that Dagda/Almyra/Duscur don't have separate languages.  
> Yes, Dagda has invented gunpowder.
> 
> Also, for anyone that plays Fire Emblem Heroes, I'm really excited for this upcoming banner! I want... Nemesis... he looks so cool...
> 
> Thanks for reading! Kudos are <3


	9. Daily Life

“Professor!” Dorothea runs up to Byleth, the moment they walk into the classroom, her voice gentle as she could muster. “This must be some kind of mistake. He’s not supposed to be here, right?” she asks, pointing over at Sylvain.

Ah. Byleth had honestly forgotten that they recruited him. “No, he’s in our class now.” they say.

Dorothea looks at Byleth for one more moment, before she covers her face and sighs. She leaves her hand there for a moment, before uncovering her face. “Professor. Please, if you recruit another person to our class… can it be a cute girl?”

“Y’know, I have to agree with Dorothea.” Sylvain says, walking up behind her.

Dorothea elbows him in the chest. “ _Not_ what I meant!” Sylvain lets out a small _oof_.

“Sure.” Byleth says, before walking to the front of the class. “Everyone. Sylvain has joined our class.” They point at him, and Sylvain gives a little wink. “Any questions?”

Dorothea sighs and sits down next to Petra. Sylvain sits next to Dorothea.

The class is silent, but Edelgard shoots Byleth a look that was the closest thing to confusion they’ve seen on her face.

Byleth ignores it. They dump their books on their desk, before turning back to the class. “Now that you’re all here,” they say, eyeing Linhardt sneaking in to sit at the back. “Let me brief you on our class’ mission for this month.”

“We are going to Magdred Way--the forest near Castle Gaspard.” Byleth begins. “Lord Lonato has started a rebellion against the church. The Knights are taking care of the main force, but we will be cleaning up any straggling forces.”

“Do we have to?” Both Bernadetta and Linhardt speak at the same time, before looking at each other, Bernadetta with an expression of shock, while Linhardt gives a nod of solidarity.

Dorothea frowns. “Are we students, or Knights?”

“I have my orders.” Byleth says, shaking their head.

“Orders? Is the Archbishop your commander?” This time the voice was Hubert’s, and his tone almost mocking.

“Yes. She is.” Byleth responds. For now, at least. “And I’m your commander. So no more arguing.”

Edelgard watches Byleth silently, her expression unreadable.

“This will be at the end of the month. Everyone prepare, and start studying up for your exams.”

\---

Students file out of the classroom as class ends. Byleth lingers back for a few moments, in case the students had questions. 

Although, it seemed as though today there wouldn’t be any--no students had approached their desk. Byleth grabs their materials and starts to leave, only to find Hubert standing in the doorway, and giving off an incredibly menacing aura. Which wasn’t really different from how he was normally.

“Yes?” Byleth says, looking up at him. It was annoying how much taller he was than them.

Hubert folds his arms. “Professor,” he says. “I realized I never offered my thanks for saving Lady Edelgard.” He shoots them a smile, one that looked more like a sneer. “So, thank you.”

“Any time.” Byleth says, glancing behind him. The door was still blocked. 

Hubert notices their gaze and smirks. “Impatient, Professor?” he asks.

“Do you need something?” Byleth asks, impatient. Was this him threatening them, again?

“No. I only came to offer my thanks,” he says. “But, I hope, for your sake, that you do not stand in the way of Lady Edelgard.”

Byleth looks at him blankly. Was he always this annoying? Did he really think he could kill them?

“Just something to consider,” Hubert says mildly. He steps aside.

“Then,” Byleth begins, “Don’t get in my way.” they say. 

Hubert makes a mock apologetic expression. “My apologies, Professor. I won’t block your path.” he says lightly, as if Byleth had only been talking about the doorway.

Byleth lets out a slight huff. “Good,” they say, before heading out.

\---

The rest of the week flies by uneventfully, and Byleth finds themselves up early on the weekend. Again. Old habits really do die hard.

They throw on their clothes and head out. It’s a short walk to the greenhouse, which is almost always their first stop. Byleth heads in, making a beeline to the seeds they had planted last month. Tiny leaves now poked through the soil, reaching towards the sky.

Byleth looks at them with a satisfied nod.

“Good morning, Professor.”

Byleth starts. They hadn’t realized someone else was there. At least it was a voice they recognized. “Good morning, Dedue.” they say, turning around.

The student is kneeling over the plants, watering them with a gentle stream. “You are here often, Professor.” he says. “Do you like plants?”

Byleth blinks. Did they? “They’re alright.” they say, before pausing thoughtfully. “I like eating plants.” they add.

Dedue nods. “You are very utilitarian, Professor.” he says. “But do not forget to take a moment and appreciate beauty. Ah. Not that you need my advice.”

Byleth kneels down next to the plants, pulling out a few weeds. “Do you do that, Dedue?” they ask. Beauty? What was beautiful to them?

“I…” Dedue hesitates. “I do.” he says, his voice guilty as if he were admitting a sin.

Byleth glances at him again, their gaze lingering for a moment. Dedue was often inscrutable, and not because he was hiding anything, but because he was stoic, and taciturn. It reminded Byleth of themself, and, because of that, they couldn’t help but sympathize.

The greenhouse door opens once more, and Byleth turns their head just in time to see Bernadetta walk in. “Hi Professor! And, oh--D--De--De--” Bernadetta stutters, frozen like a rabbit at the sight of Dedue. “It--it’s my turn to take care of the…” She trails off, looking seconds away from passing out.

Byleth stands up. “Bernadetta. This is Dedue. Have you met?”

“No,” Bernie says, her voice little more than a squeak.

Dedue stands up straight. “I will leave.” he says.

“No! No, no that’s--don’t leave on _my_ accord I mean--” Bernadetta protests, but Dedue walks out of the greenhouse, leaving as much space as possible between him and the purple haired girl.

Bernie watches for a moment, before slapping her forehead. “Stupid, SELFISH Bernie! He wasn’t doing anything wrong! He must hate me! He must hate me so much!” 

Byleth takes a step back from Bernadetta. “Bernadetta,” they say, trying to sound as calm as possible. Luckily, they always sounded calm. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not!” Bernadetta says, her voice sounding panicked. “What if he decides I’m his enemy? What if he tries to--”

“Dedue will not hurt you.” Byleth says firmly.

Bernadetta falls silent, before looking at Byleth for a moment. “Okay,” she says, taking in slow breaths. “Okay.”

Byleth nods, before turning back to the plants. “You had garden duty, right? I’ll help you.”

“I…” Bernie says, watching Byleth. “Okay. Thanks, Professor.” she says meekly. She walks to the plants, grabbing a watering can. “S--sorry.” she adds, flinching slightly.

“It’s alright,” Byleth says.

Bernadetta sighs. “This is why I hate leaving my room,” she mutters.

“You can head back after finishing up here.” Byleth says, glancing over at the girl.

Bernie sighs again, this time longer. “Okay.” she says, before pausing. “Thanks, Professor.” She falls silent for a moment, her focus on the watering can. “You know… for some reason, you aren’t as scary as other people.”

For some reason? Byleth always wondered why that was. It never really made sense, especially since they had always felt like they were an intimidating person in all other settings. “Maybe because I’m so nice,” Byleth says, deadpan.

Bernadetta flinches. “Don’t joke around, Professor!” she cries, before taking a moment to calm down again. “You… well, I guess it’s because you don’t really look at me.”

Huh? Byleth turns to stare at her.

“Not in that way!” Bernie says, covering her head. “You look, but you don’t… _look_. Does that make sense?”

“Not really.” Byleth admits.

Bernie sighs. “Just pretend I never said anything.” she mutters.

“It’s alright,” Byleth says. “I get the spirit of what you’re saying. And… thanks.” they say. 

“Um. Anytime, Professor.” she mumbles, before turning and hiding her face in the plants.

\---

It doesn’t take them long to finish, and afterwards Bernadetta makes a dash back to her room, while Byleth heads to the pond. They grab a loaner rod and sit near the edge, adjusting their position before casting. They liked fishing--not only was it helpful for the monastery--and for their own stomach--but it was relaxing, and quiet.

“Hello, Professor.”

Well. It’s sometimes quiet. Byleth looks up, although they don’t have to look to know who’s speaking to them--It’s a voice that’s almost unmistakable. Byleth glances back to see a girl with green hair and green eyes. 

“Hello, Flayn.” they say.

Flayn perks up at Byleth’s greeting. “I hope I am not being too forward. I know we have only met once before, but I wanted to stop by and say hello.” she says. “I see you are fishing.”

“I am.” Byleth replies.

Flayn nods. “A commendable pastime! My brother is also a fan of fishing.” she says, leaning over Byleth’s shoulder to look at their rod. “I have no talent, myself. But I do appreciate the fruits of the labor.”

“Want to learn?” Byleth asks. Why had no one ever taught her? The poor girl.

Flayn’s eyes sparkle. “Would you teach me?” she asks.

“Sure,” Byleth says. “Hey. If you’re really determined to get good, I could teach you a little every weekend.” 

Flayn nods again, almost vibrating with excitement. “How generous! I cannot wait to start.” 

“No time like the present,” Byleth says, before handing her the rod. “For now, just hold this.”

Flayn gingerly grasps the rod.

“Hold it harder. If a fish snags the bait, you don’t want it taking the rod.” 

Flayn tightens her grip, as if preparing for the rod itself to start wrestling in her hands.

“Good enough.” Byleth says.

The practice goes on for a while. Surprisingly enough, the two of them managed to catch some fish. Somehow, it was more fun than normal. It combined two of Byleth’s favorite things--teaching and fishing! Maybe they should become a fishing instructor?

“I am sorry Professor,” Flayn says, interrupting their thoughts. “I would love to continue. But I feel as though my arms are noodles! I do not think I can hold a rod any longer.”

Byleth blinks, before taking a look at her arms. They also looked like noodles. “Flayn.” they say slowly. “Do you have any sort of workout routine?”

Flayn shakes her head. “No.”

Byleth pulls out their notebook and quickly scribbles a routine on a piece of paper, before tearing it out and handing it to Flayn. “Try this.”

Flayn perks up. “Why, thank you, Professor!” she says, folding the paper neatly and sliding it into her pocket. She stands up, before doing a very girlish jog back to the other side of the monastery.

Byleth watches her for a moment, before standing up and stretching. Fishing was fun, but they were a little sore from standing in one spot. They slide the rod back in the depository, and head off. It was almost lunch time, wasn’t it?

“Professor!” 

Byleth turns. Ferdinand was running up to them, holding a very chic shopping bag. 

“Professor! How lucky I happened to run into you.” he says, shooting his dazzling smile at Byleth. “I was shopping for a tea set the other day and you came to mind. You seemed so enamoured with our tea party the other week. I hope you can continue the tradition.” He holds out the bag to Byleth.

Byleth stares at the bag. What? “Thanks,” they say slowly, reaching out and taking the bag. Had this ever happened before? Usually they’re the one giving their students gifts. Not the other way around--except on their birthday. 

Ferdinand cocks his head. It reminds Byleth of the monastery dogs. “Are you all right, Professor? You seem…” He considers the phrasing for a moment. “Confused.”

Confused?

Byleth shifts. That was probably right. How were they supposed to act when they got a gift? How did Ferdinand react when Byleth had given him a gift?

“I’ve never gotten a present before.” Byleth admits.

Ferdinand frowns, his expression a mixture of pity and worry. “That’s… not what I expected you to say. When is your birthday, Professor?”

“The 20th of Horsebow Moon,” Byleth replies.

Ferdinand nods thoughtfully. “I see. Thank you, Professor.” he says, before turning to leave. “By the way, my birthday is the 30th of Great Tree Moon.” he adds.

Byleth nods. Ah, so right when they had arrived at the monastery. They were too preoccupied to celebrate birthdays. “I’ll remember it for next year.” Byleth promises.

“I am looking forward to it!” he says with a smile. “Have a good day, Professor.”

Byleth gives a wave, before turning back. They glance down at the bag in their hand, and it finally sets in.

A tea set. They could host tea parties!

“ _Is that a smile I see on your face?_ ” Sothis asks. “ _I never knew you were such a tea fanatic._ ”

“Just you wait,” Byleth mutters, quickly making a serious expression. They wanted to host a tea party right away, and they knew just who they wanted to invite. 

Edelgard. They start walking around, searching the monastery for the house leader. It would be nice to have the first tea with her, and, besides that--there was a lot of things they wanted to discuss with her, and a tea party was always the perfect place to have a chat. 

They check the Black Eagle classroom first--which was their first mistake. 

“Ah, Professor.” Hubert greets them with a friendly voice, but an unfriendly expression. 

“Hello.” Byleth says, mostly ignoring him and glancing around. Ah, no Edelgard. Damn.

Hubert’s gaze drifts to the bag in their hand. “Delivering something, Professor?”

Byleth shifts. “No.” they say, before pausing again. Actually, this might be a good chance. “Hubert. Do you want to have tea with me?”

Hubert’s eyes widen, and he looks very much like he hadn’t been expecting that. It wasn’t an expression Byleth got to see often.

“I...yes, I accept, Professor.” he says, quickly gathering back his poise. “I must admit, I didn’t take you for one to… _drink tea_.”

Byleth raises an eyebrow. Why did he say it like that? Was it a euphemism for something? Or was he just being condescending?

Ah, well. It’s not worth worrying over. That was the best way to deal with the ominous things that he said. And, besides--it would be nice to get a chance to bond with Hubert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I WILL get Dedue and Bernadetta to be friends.
> 
> And... more Hubert!! Don't worry--after this chapter, there will be a lot more Hubert in general...


	10. Books

Byleth gracefully pours tea for the both of them. It wasn't a skill they were born with--heavens, no--but they had gone through a crash course with Lorenz, and they can still remember his horrified expression the first time they had poured him a cup of tea.

“Are you really holding it like that? One wrong move and the lid will tumble right off!” he’d scoff.

Byleth did miss him, but it wasn’t like he was going anywhere. They only had so much time in their day, and Lorenz--well, he would already be on their side. There was no need to win him over.

Technically, they didn’t have to win over Hubert, either, if everything went right with Edelgard. However, it would make things exponentially easier. And, besides--Byleth was fond of him.

Hubert eyes’ following their hands as they pour the tea.“You’re surprisingly good at this.” he comments, before taking a slow sip of his tea.

“Thanks.” Byleth says, taking a sip of their own tea. This blend was pretty good.

“Although, I must admit I prefer--”

“Coffee?” Byleth interrupts. “I know.”

Hubert narrows his eyes. “Yes. You took the words right out of my mouth, Professor,” he says mildly, although he shoots them a frigid smile. “Tell me, Professor--how has such a talented individual as yourself been hidden away at Remire?”

“Jeralt likes his privacy,” Byleth says with a shrug. “And, we never stay in one place for too long.”

Hubert raises his eyebrows. “Is that so?” he comments mildly. “And what about you? Do you prefer your privacy?”

Byleth pauses. “I couldn’t care either way.” they say. “Do you?”

“Oh, I prefer to not be in the public.” Hubert says. “I think I make that very obvious.”

Byleth tilts their head. “Really?” they say. “Even as the future Emperor’s right hand man?”

Hubert chuckles. “I suppose you aren’t wrong, Professor. In the not-so near future, I won’t have the luxury of being hidden from the public eye.” He pauses. “And what about yourself, Professor? What do you think your future brings?”

“I can’t quite say.” Byleth says. “Perhaps I’ll stay in Garreg Mach as a Professor. Although... that would be a waste.”

Hubert quirks an eyebrow up. “How so?” he asks, leaning back in his seat.

Byleth pauses, their thoughts racing. They needed a way to bait Hubert, to let him in on their plan, just enough to catch his attention. Hopefully, this would do the trick. “If I wanted to change things,” they begin, “Teaching idly at Garreg Mach wouldn’t do, would it?”

“Oh?” Hubert says slowly, although he maintains his cold expression. “What would you change?”

Byleth leans back in their chair, folding their arms. “It’s not something I should tell someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” Hubert repeats with a slight smirk. “Why, Professor--I’m not sure if I should be offended.”

“You shouldn’t.” Byleth says. They take a slow sip of their tea. “I only meant that you’re a noble.”

Hubert gets a dark glint in his eye. “And what does being a noble have to do with anything?”

Byleth looks at him silently, their gaze unreadable as always. The two of them stare at each other, both expressions equally hard to read.

The ghost of a smile tugs at his lips, and Hubert lets out a chuckle, a small laugh that starts quiet, but gets louder. “How amusing.” he says. “Have all the ambitions you want, Professor--as long as they don’t get in the way of Lady Edelgard.” 

\---

“ _Oh, my. Is that what you consider relaxing?_ ” Sothis comments mildly, watching Hubert walk away. “ _Do you ever wonder if he would actually intend to kill you?_ ”

“No,” Byleth says, their voice just as disinterested. They stand up and start walking back out of the hedges. “He never did, before.” They see no reason why he would, now.

“ _Hm,_ ” Sothis says with a yawn. “ _How boring._ ”

“Professor!” A voice calls from behind them.

“ _You are quite the popular one,_ ” Sothis comments. “ _At times it feels as though we cannot take five steps without some pedant calling your name!_ ”

Not my name, Byleth thinks, but they ignore her comment. Because she was right.

Byleth turns around, and their eyebrows raise. 

Tomas walks up to them, a cheerful smile on his face. “I’m so glad I caught up to you, Professor. You’re quite the lively one.” he says. He reaches into his robes, pulling out a well-worn book. “I brought you the book you requested.” 

Byleth eagerly accepts it, turning it over to look at the cover. It’s a plain red book with nothing on the cover save gold lettering that reads “History of the Goddess”.

“Thanks,” Byleth says, tucking it under their arm. 

Tomas nods. “I hope it proves enlightening.” he says.

Byleth glances at the book one more time, curiosity welling up inside them. The cover looked so unassuming, but they had no clue what to expect from the contents.

“ _What is in it?! Read it right now!_ ” Sothis demands impatiently. “ _I must know!_ ”

Byleth couldn’t disagree. Besides, what was the weekend for, if they couldn’t do what they wanted?

They give a small nod to Tomas, before briskly walking back towards their room.

\---

Byleth closes the door behind them, and sits on their desk. They place the book on their desk, pausing for a moment. Oh, right. They needed to take care of something, before they forgot. The battle against Lord Lonato was next week, wasn’t it? It would be better to get it done, now.

“What are you doing? Read the book!” Sothis insists.

“One moment.” Byleth says, “I need to do something first.”

“Ugh.” Sothis complains. “Whatever you might be doing is far less important and interesting than the contents of that book. Why, if I had arms, I would snatch it from you at this very moment!”

“Mhm,” Byleth says, opening their notebook and putting their quill to the page.

Sothis’ complaints eventually dry up when she realizes Byleth wouldn’t relent. She’s silent, until Byleth puts their pen away, and closes the notebook.

“Finally!” she huffs.

“You think being an immortal goddess would grant you patience,” Byleth says dryly, stowing away their notebook, and grabbing the book that Tomas had given them. They look at the cover for another moment. “History of the Goddess”. They wonder how accurate that title will be.

Byleth opens the book.

On a second glance, maybe “book” wasn’t the right word. The inside of the book revealed it to be more of a collection of different papers, almost like a haphazard scrapbook. Byleth skims through, passing through sketches, poems, charts, journal entries, and the occasional textbook entry.

“Some of this text looks... strange,” Byleth mumbles. “How are all the letters the exact same?”

Sothis folds her arms. “Is that not normal?”

Byleth shakes their head.

“Hm,” Sothis says. “I do not know why, but it is not unfamiliar to me.” she says. “Now, are you just going to look at the pictures, or are you going to actually read?”

“I’m reading!” Byleth protests. They open to the first page.

A hasty charcoal sketch of a beast lies on the page, from a few different angles. It’s vaguely similar to Rhea’s dragon form, but with four wings instead of two, and a longer neck.

“Hm,” Byleth says, turning the page. Was that another one of the Goddess’ Children? Or Sothis herself? They read the next page. Byleth squints. Some of the text was impossible to decipher.

_AFTER ACTION REPORT_

_________ EMPIRE, AIR DIVISION_

_SUBJECT: After Action Report, Notable Sighting_

_1\. This after action report is prepared MMMCDVIII, on the 7th of the ____ month._

_2\. Details of Report:_

_Noticed a sight in the Northern sky, coming from the direction of Thinis. A creature larger than our _____. Did not engage. Possible enemy sent from the _____ Nation. Requesting assistance. Creature also seems capable of powerful ______. Trying to confirm if it is a ________ or intelligent._ ”

The rest of the report was unreadable. Byleth wonders how old it was.

“Hm,” Sothis says. “Empire? Which Empire is this? And I see some ‘Nation’ mentioned. It must be before the Adrestian Empire even existed.”

Byleth turns the page.

“ _I saw it._

_I saw the False God._

_It flew above my head, its giant, monstrous shadow spreading across the town, blacking out the blessed sun. This is an omen._

_It claims to be the God of the World, but we know. It came from Thinis, the land of the old gods. It comes, and claims to rule over us. With its power, I do not doubt it will. It will rule us, or it will curse us with the deluge Despair. Just as was foretold._

_There are no gods left to pray. Instead, we take it up in our own hands._

Byleth turns the page, and they read. Page after page, accounts vague enough that someone unaware would consider it myth or fiction.

But not Byleth. They turn the page, studying each account as close as they can.

_Elatha,_

_Recently, I’ve gotten more than a few petitions from people in this city. What are your recommendations for next steps? I can only ignore it for so long. There’s been some vigilantes, as well, but I quickly took care of them._

_I envy those that received an obedient city. The humans here are extremely rowdy. I’ve heard you’re something of an expert when it comes to these matters. Please advise._

_Sincerely,_

_Bres_

Humans? Byleth frowns. This wasn’t written by a human, then? It couldn’t have been an Agarthan--they seemed to view themselves as the only true humans. Was it written by one of the Children of the Goddess? It certainly didn’t paint them in a good light.

Sothis falls silent.

Byleth turns to the next page. A map of Fódlan, with sections drawn and different labels over each area. 

Bres. Elatha. Indech. Seiros. The names from before, and familiar ones. Byleth frowns, looking closer. The area labeled “Seiros” seemed to be very small, and almost completely within the Red Canyon.

“They divided the land up,” Byleth murmurs. They glance back at Sothis, who had been quiet for a while.

“I…” Sothis says quietly staring at the page. “I think I need time to think this over.” she mumbles softly, covering her head with her hands. “These things feel so familiar…”

“This lines up with the dream we had.” Byleth says, flipping through the book. Pages of drawings, pages of journals. “Where we--you--were crashing into mountains.” Byleth pauses. “Where is Thinis? What is meant by old gods? Were you…” Byleth runs a hand through their hand. This felt like a lot, and only some of it made sense. “Were you running from another god?”

“I do not know!” Sothis snaps. “I don’t--none of this--I do not remember any of it!” Her voice rises, edging into a panic. “Who am I? A Goddess? A false god? A tyrant? A mother? I do not know! I don’t know!” She covers her ears and lets out a scream.

Byleth flinches. “Sothis--” they say.

“No!” she says, shaking her head, and her long hair bounces back and forth at the movement. “No! Why--why have I done so many things I do not remember?” 

“Sothis--”

“This isn’t fair!” she cries.”At least let me have my own life, and not the ghost of some past!”

“Soth--”

Sothis lets out another scream, before disappearing.

Byleth stares. They’ve never seen her like that. “Sothis?” they ask softly.

“I need time.” she whispers. “Give me time to think.”

Byleth nods slowly. “Take as long as you’d like.” they say quietly, before turning back to the book. Sothis might be overwhelmed by the information, but to them it was incredibly interesting, filling in the gaps of some of the things they never even stopped to think about. They turn to a passage, and start reading.

They lose themself in the book, only pulled from it when they hear a knock at the door.

Byleth stands up, quickly stashing the book under their pillow before opening the door. 

Edelgard stands on the other side, and she gives a nod when they open the door.

“Hello, Professor.” She shoots a smile at Byleth. “It’s getting late. It’s not like you to be cooped up all day.” She pauses. “If you’re free, would you like to come to dinner with me?”

Byleth blinks. She was right. In this timeline, they hadn’t really spent a weekend doing nothing but resting. It must seem strange for them to be missing the whole day. “Alright,” Byleth says. They were planning to head to dinner, anyway. 

Edelgard nods. “Shall we go?”

“Yeah,” Byleth says, stepping out of their room. They squint for a moment as their eyes adjust to the sunlight, before starting to head towards the dining hall.

Edelgard matches their pace. “Professor, if I may ask, what were you doing?”

“Reading.” Byleth says, glancing over at her.

She raises her eyebrows. “Oh? I suppose I haven’t seen you read before.”

“I usually read at night.”

“What makes today different?”

Byleth pauses. “It was really interesting.” they say.

“I see.” Edelgard comments, looking ahead of her. “Perhaps you might lend it to me, if it was that interesting?”

“Sure.” Byleth says, glancing back at her. They didn’t see the harm in that. Either she already knew, or it would confirm her already set beliefs, or she wouldn’t understand the text. Neither of which should make any difference in how things played out. 

“Do you like reading?”Byleth asks, in a clumsy attempt at making conversation. Edelgard was hard to talk to, and--now that they thought about it--they had a sparse amount of casual conversations with her. Maybe they could change that, this time.

“I do, actually.” she says, still looking ahead. “I read a lot before I enrolled at the Academy.” she says. 

“What kinds of things?” Byleth says, tilting their head.

Edelgard looks over at them. “Mostly textbooks--history, politics, warfare--anything I could get my hands on.” she says. “It’s been far too long since I read fiction.” She lets out a sigh. “I dearly miss it.”

Huh. “I’ve… never read fiction.” Byleth admits. “So, have you read anything particularly good?” They know Ashe and Ingrid always had recommendations for good stories. 

“Yes, I--wait, what?” Edelgard says, giving a double take at Byleth, her eyes wide. “You’ve… never read fiction?”

“No.” They say, glancing away, slightly embarrassed. Was it that weird? 

Edelgard stares. “Not even as a child?”

“Do children read books?” Byleth asks, taken aback. “I thought you had to be older to read…?”

“No, I mean--you never read a children’s book? Or had it read to you?” she asks, incredulous.

Byleth tries to imagine Jeralt reading a story to them. “Uh. At most, Jeralt would tell me folktales as a way to remember the names of months.”

Edelgard frowns. “That hardly counts as fiction.” she says with a sigh. “I’d recommend something, but I feel like you’ll be too busy to read it.”

“You’re not wrong.” Byleth says dryly.

“Maybe that’s for the best,” Edelgard says, sounding defeated. “I can’t remember any stories from my childhood. I wouldn’t be able to give you recommendations, even if I wanted to.”

Byleth’s eyebrows rise. “You can’t?” they ask, surprised.

Edelgard glances back at them, before giving a small laugh. “Professor, you look like a cat when you make that face.” she says.

That was rare. She laughed! 

“I’ve never seen you smile, before,” Edelgard says, an almost playful smile on her own face.

Byleth covers their mouth. They were smiling?!

“Looks like I’m seeing a lot of new sides to you, today.”

Byleth lowers their hand. “I guess so.” they say, somewhat awkwardly. 

Edelgard opens the door to the dining hall, pausing for a moment in front of it. “I hope I can continue to see new sides of you, my Teacher.” she says, her smile softening for half of a second before she turns away, heading inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone had a happy Halloween!
> 
> Notes: The names "Elatha" and "Bres" are Fomorians from Irish mythology. So are Cethlenn, Cichol, and Indech! If that gives you a clue ;)


	11. The Magdred Ambush

“With the powerful Relic Thunderbrand at our side, there will be no need to worry about whatever enemies we might encounter.” Hubert says, shooting a meaningful glance at the Heroes' Relic at Catherine’s side. 

The four of them--Catherine, Hubert, Edelgard, and Byleth--walk through the field, chatting as they head closer to Magdred. If Byleth’s memory serves correctly, they weren’t far at all. It had been nice to head through Faerghus. The air felt cooler, and the breeze was nice. The only thing Byleth wasn’t a fan of was the mud.

“That’s true.” Byleth says, pausing for a moment. “But I hope I can use this as a chance to give my students experience in battle.”

Catherine frowns. “It shouldn’t come to that. We’re just here to clean up the aftermath.” she says.

“Still, if there is any left to fight, I hope you give us a chance to go ahead.” Byleth insists, hoping that would convince her, at least a little.

Catherine crosses her arms. “Hm. Fine. But if I see any danger, I’m doing my job. Which is to protect all of you.”

“And we thank you for that.” Edelgard says graciously.

Hubert put a hand to his chin. “Why would Lord Lonato incite such a rebellion? He has no chance of achieving anything, with such a small, ragtag force.”

Catherine sighs. “It all started with the Tragedy of Duscar. Lonato’s son was implicated in the plot and executed by the church.”

Byleth tries to fake a surprised expression. They’re sure they look silly. Or maybe--as so commonly pointed out to them--they looked like a cat. “Oh?” Byleth says. “Was there a trial?”

“No.” Catherine says, her eyebrows furrowing. 

“The Church does not normally hold trials. All judgement is given by the Archbishop.” Edelgard explains, shooting Byleth a meaningful glance.

Byleth frowns. They didn’t actually know that. “Rhea can have people executed without any evidence?” they ask.

Catherine scowls. “ _Lady_ Rhea does not execute anyone without good cause.” she says. “You know her. She’s a caring, just woman.” She opens her mouth to say something else, but never gets the chance.

“Report!” A soldier yells, running up to Catherine. “The enemy is approaching! They must’ve used the fog to slip past the Knights’ perimeter!”

The fog. The fog!

“ _Lonato_ ,” Catherine hisses, in a way one would curse. She turns to Byleth. “Looks like your students will get the chance for training, after all. Prepare for battle!”

Byleth nods. “Think we could still go ahead?” they ask, almost eager.

Catherine’s expression hardens. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. But... you seem reliable. You can go ahead, but I want you in eyesight.”

Well. That was probably the best they could get from her. “Alright,” Byleth agrees. 

They turn, heading back to Edelgard and their students, while Catherine split off to give orders to the Knights.

“Alright, class,” Byleth begins. “I have a special plan for this battle. Now, listen up…”

\---

The fog was the greatest blessing Byleth could ask for. They can’t believe they forgot about it! This was the perfect chance they needed. The students would be able to handle anything, so Byleth knew it would be okay to let them behind, slowly picking off enemies while Byleth ran ahead to confront Lonato.

Not that the students knew the details. They knew as much as they needed.

“Dorothea, come with me,” they call to her. She was part of their plan--they needed a healer to come with them, and she was the best pick. It would be better for Linhardt to stay with the rest of the class, as his abilities would be needed there, and Byleth didn’t want Hubert coming along, in case he would ruin their plans.

The students left behind would be a distraction--not just for the Gaspard soldiers, but also for Catherine. 

“Yes, Professor,” Dorothea says. 

It was part of their plan, and the fact that she went along with it so easily was something Byleth was deeply grateful about. Technically, they could’ve made it alone, but they didn’t want to risk the chance.

The two of them run off, heading through the woods. Byleth was all too familiar with the place, considering they fought this same battle three times. The fog made it hard to see, but they didn’t need eyes, instead running through with memory, easily swerving around the clumps of trees and avoiding enemy ambushes.

Byleth keeps running, glancing back every now and then to make sure they could still see Dorothea. They only had so much time before one of the Knights would find the Dark Mage that was causing the fog.

Only so much time before Catherine and Lonato would see each other. Once they did, Byleth knew nothing they did would stop Lonato from taking his revenge.

Of all people, why did it have to be Catherine? Byleth clenches their jaw and doesn’t stop running, finally clearing the last section of the woods. It was all decided by Rhea. They still had no influence, or power. 

Although, did anyone? Rhea stood alone as Archbishop, and even Seteth could not dissuade her when she made a decision. Byleth knew that bending Rhea’s will would be even harder than Edelgard.

They reach the edge of the ruins that Lonato should be standing on, just out of sight thanks to the fog. Heavily armored soldiers guard the spot. Byleth pauses, waving over Dorothea and waiting for her to catch up.

Dorothea catches up, panting heavily. “Professor… did we make it across?” she asks.

Byleth nods. “Can you zap those guys?” they say. “I’ll finish them off after you do.”

Dorothea nods, her eyebrows furrowing in determination. Sparks fly from her fingertips, and an arc of lightning flies to the nearest soldier. 

Byleth follows up, sword in hand. They take the finishing blow, and keep moving. The two of them finish off another Knight, and move closer to the ruins, moving forward until they were finally in sight, and--

“He’s not here,” Byleth breathes, staring in shock. Lonato was always here. 

Wait--no! He usually didn’t arrive until the fog cleared up. Shit. Where was he, then?!

Dorothea looks around. “We’re here. What now?” 

“Hold this position.” Byleth orders, before starting to head off. They didn’t have much time. “I’ll be over here. Holler if you need help.” They give a small wave to her, before dashing off.

Where could he be? Where was that man?! Byleth wanted to scream, or punch something. Did he want to die? Did he-- _wait_ , wait, was that--?

Byleth narrows their eyes. The glint of armor. They sheath their sword and run over.

As they get closer, their suspicions are confirmed. It’s Lonato and a small group of mounted soldiers. 

“Lord Lonato!” Byleth calls. It’s incredibly foreign hearing their voice so loud. Come to think of it, they hadn’t really yelled before. It’s a miracle they can.

Lonato looks up, raising his weapon, his expression cold with suspicion.

“Lonato.” Byleth says, slowing down as they get closer. This was insane. They only had half a plan--getting close to him--and the rest was totally up to how well they could improvise.

Or how many divine pulses they had.

“Who are you?” Lonato demands.

“I am Byleth Eisner, Professor at Garreg Mach.” they say.

Lonato raises his weapon. “Central Church scum!” he hisses.

The world stops. Okay, wrong answer.

Time moves backwards, just a few seconds.

“I’m… an ally.” Byleth says. “We have similar goals.”

Lonato doesn’t lower his weapon.

“Lord Lonato. If you fight here, you will die.” Byleth says. They don’t wait for him to reply, before going on. “Currently, there’s forces building an alliance to overthrow the Central Church. Think! If you retreat now, you can make a meaningful move in the future.”

The soldiers move closer to Byleth. Suddenly they have multiple weapons aimed at them. 

They don’t move, but shift their weight slightly, never moving their gaze from Lonato. 

Lonato looks down at them, giving a scoff. "Oh? And what is this big alliance?" he asks skeptically.

“I... can’t say any details,” Byleth says with a frown.

Lonato lets out a hiss. “Another small rebellion? I appreciate the offer, but my time is now.” he says, before gesturing for his men to move forward.

Time stops again. Augh! This man was so, utterly stubborn. Fine, he wants to hear about a large rebellion? He’ll hear it.

They start time up again.

"The Adrestian Empire." Byleth answers, their usual deadpan voice hiding their bubbling annoyance.

Lonato’s expression flickers with uncertainty. 

“Contact Count Bergliez. He can get you in touch with the one in charge.” they say. They weren’t completely sure that the Count would be the best point of contact, but they couldn’t think of anyone else. Edelgard or Hubert would be too obvious, and Lord Arundel might bring in too many unintended consequences.

Lonato’s expression hardens, and he purses his lips in thought. “I see.” he says.

Neither Byleth nor Lonato speak, and Byleth feels hyper aware of every second that went by. One of the soldiers adjusts his spear. Lonato’s gaze flicks between Byleth and the fog, then to his men.

The clink of armor. Their own breath. Byleth doesn't dare move, standing still as a hunter in front of their prey.

“Whatever you decide, we’ll follow you,” A knight says, breaking the silence.

Lonato’s expression falters for a moment, before hardening again. “I know this rebellion has no hope of succeeding.” he admits, his voice quieter, scratchy. “If I could actually achieve something…” He trails off, and he no longer looks like a hardened general, but a lost man. His expression hardens again, and he turns on Byleth, pointing his spear at them.

“What’s your proof? Who are you? Who sent you?” Lonato demands roughly.

“I am Byleth Eisner, Professor at Garreg Mach.” they say. “I’m an agent of the Emperor.”

He narrows his eyes. “This could be Central Church trickery.”

Byleth frowns. What in the world were they supposed to say to that? They stop time, just to give themselves a moment to think. This kind of thing was so much harder than fighting.

What would make Lonato trust them? Why did he hate the Church, hate Catherine?

His son. Christophe. Christophe was killed because he was implicated in a plot to assassinate Lady Rhea, but publicly it was due to blaming him for being involved in the Tragedy of Duscur. Yet there was no trial, and dubious proof at best. 

Byleth starts up time.

“Do you know the Central Church to be merciful? To want a peaceful end?” they say, furrowing their brows.

Lonato stares at them for another moment. His expression relaxes, just slightly. The man gives a dry, humorless laugh. “You have a point.” he says, but makes no motion to move. 

Byleth shifts again. They were running out of time. The fog would be cleared at any moment. “I promise. If you regroup now, your actions will have much more impact.”

Lonato gives a grunt as his answer, before turning to his men. “Soldiers. Retreat!” he says, glancing back one more time at the fog.

Byleth shifts their weight again, starting to get antsy. 

The fog starts to lift. 

Lonato turns away, riding off. In no time, he was hidden by the cover of distant fog, once more.

Byleth feels a weight leave their chest. The hard part was over. They reach into their coat, pulling out their notebook.

“Professor!” Dorothea cries. She doesn’t move from her position-- _good girl, Byleth thinks_ \--but she waves at them, now that they were visible to each other. 

Byleth ignores her for a moment. From this position, she couldn’t see what they were doing. They just needed to do one more thing. 

They tear a page from their notebook, fold it up and slide it up their sleeve, before putting the notebook back in their coat.

Byleth turns around to look at Dorothea, waving with their free hand, a crumpled note in their other. They jog back over to her.

“Professor, you’re alright! I was worried!” she says, before glancing behind Byleth. “What were you doing over there?” Dorothea asks, her eyebrows creased. 

“I thought I saw someone.” Byleth says. It was the first thing that popped into their head.

Dorothea tilts her head. “Is that… really it, Professor?” she says with a frown. 

“Yes.” Byleth says, feeling guilty. Dorothea, maybe more than anyone else, didn’t deserve these lies. But, at this point, Byleth didn’t have anyone they could trust with the truth.

Edelgard runs up to the two of them, the rest of the Black Eagle class following close behind. Catherine heads over as well, running over from the opposite direction.

“All clear over here.” Catherine says.

“Same here.” Edelgard says.

Byleth nods. “That’s good,” they say, walking over towards the nearest soldier.

“Professor, there were citizens here,” Caspar says, walking up to them. “I didn’t realize they would be mixed up with Lonato’s knights…”

“How horrible, for a noble to force his people to fight for him.” Ferdinand scolds. He folds his arms. 

“Were they forced?” Byleth asks, kneeling down and inspecting the fallen soldier.

“No. In fact, they seemed very eager to fight for their Lord.” Hubert says mildly.

Ferdinand snorts. “Only because they no doubt felt pressured by Lord Lonato!” he insists. 

“Do you really think of the people as mindless sheep?” Hubert retorts, raising an eyebrow.

“No. But I know well enough that their lives are influenced by Lord Lonato, and he has a duty to not lead them astray.”

“Ah, yet you talk about leading.” Hubert says coolly.

Ferdinand prickles. “You know what I mean! For those that do not go against their Lord’s wishes, they can be punished!”

“Alright boys, you’re _both_ pretty.” Linhardt says tiredly. “Can we go home, now?”

“One moment,” Byleth says, standing up. They walk over to Catherine, handing her a folded up piece of paper. “I think that one was the enemy commander.” they say. “They had this on them.”

Catherine unfurls the letter, reading it for a moment, before her expression darkens. “Well, this changes things.” she mutters. “We need to head back to Garreg Mach as soon as possible.” she turns, starting to head back. “Let’s go!” Catherine yells to her knights.

Byleth turns to their class. “You heard her.” they say. “Let’s head back.” They don’t wait for the students to move, and start walking.

Byleth looks straight ahead, feeling a little shaky. They’re definitely not a natural liar, and they’re surprised that everything went so smoothly. Well--things went smoothly with Catherine, at least. Perhaps not so much with Lonato, but they did eventually work out.

“Professor,” Edelgard says, catching up with them. Byleth looks over at her. 

“How was the battle?” Byleth asks.

“It went well.” she says. “You gave us good direction.” She pauses. “Did you complete your objective?”

“I did.” Byleth says. 

“What was it, may I ask?”

“I wanted to see if there was anyone important involved in this battle.” Byleth says, looking ahead of themself. “All we found was the commander.”

“I see.” Edelgard says, before glancing back for a moment. “Caspar wasn’t wrong. There were a lot of citizens here, today.”

“Lonato must be loved.” Byleth comments. 

“Perhaps.” Edelgard says. “Or perhaps he has done a good job of convincing them.”

“I can’t say either way. I never knew the man.” 

Edelgards shakes her head. “It’s too bad, about the people. But it’s what must happen to those that cling to unreasonable ideas of justice.”

Byleth looks at her. “Do you think this was unreasonable?” they ask.

“Hm.” she says noncommittally. “Do you?”

Was this a test? “I do.” Byleth says. “This was a suicide mission for all of these people. Surely Lonato knew that this rebellion wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“I agree.” Edelgard says, seeming satisfied. “Although, I do think that death is inevitable when making real change… Lord Lonato did not bother to calculate his chances.”

“Mm,” Byleth agrees. “I think… he just wanted any chance to kill Catherine.”

Edelgard blinks, looking at Byleth with wide eyes. “Catherine?” she says.

Ah. How could they possibly know that? Wait, Catherine had been dropping hints, hadn’t she? “I mean… she seemed to hint that she was the one that turned his son in to the Church.”

“I see.” Edelgard says, her expression controlled once more. “That would make sense. But it’s quite irresponsible.”

“Exactly.” Byleth says, nodding. “Lonato still has Ashe, after all.”

There’s a moment of silence, before Edelgard speaks up. 

“Professor, forgive me for saying this, but you are more observant than you seem.” she says, almost playfully.

“You think?” Byleth says. “I do prefer listening to talking.”

“Did Jeralt talk a lot?” she asks.

“Oh.” Byleth says. “Not really.”

Edelgard shakes her head with a small smile. “So, your household must’ve been very quiet.”

“It was.” Byleth says.

Edelgard glances at them for a moment, her expression unreadable. “That… sounds nice.”

Byleth pauses for a moment. Was it? “I suppose.” they say noncommittally. “How were things with your father?”

Edelgard’s expression softens. “Before the Insurrection, we were actually very close.” she says. “I think I was a favorite of sorts, because of my mother. He would visit as often as his work permitted.”

“You must love him very much.” Byleth says, a little jealous. 

“I do.” Edelgard says, her expression turning cold. “But… things can never be the same as they were. It’s nice to reminisce about the good times every now and then, but I really shouldn’t make a habit out of it.”

She looks at Byleth, and a gentle smile spreads on her face. “I guess you just bring that out of me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was more exciting for everyone! ^^
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments!


	12. Preparations

Usually, Byleth would have to wait a few days to meet with Rhea, but an emergency meeting had been called, due to the news--a note from the enemy, revealing there was a ploy from the Western Church to assassinate the Archbishop.

A note that Byleth had written with their own hands. They’re a little surprised it worked, but then again, the note on Lonato was hardly any more robust.

“Welcome back, Professor.” Rhea says. “It seems that your mission was executed without any problems. Truly, the Goddess is gracious with her divine protection.”

Byleth gives a small bow of their head in acknowledgement. 

“Of course, your own skill proved true, as well. Why, Catherine informed us that you single handedly took down the enemy commander.”

“My students helped.” Byleth says.

“Such modesty,” Rhea says, her expression warm. “But there is no need.” 

She pauses. “I heard some of the students were… hesitant about fighting the militia.” She frowns, as if she’s pitying the students in question. “We must punish any sinner who may inflict harm on believers, no matter who that sinner may be.” She clasps her hands together. “I hope your students take this lesson to heart, of what happens when one turns their blade against the Goddess.”

Chilling. How could she say that with such a serene face?

“However, our main concern is the letter you uncovered.” Seteth speaks up, his arms crossed. “It speaks of a plot to target the Archbishop on the day of the Goddess’ Rite of Rebirth.” He frowns, his eyebrows creasing. “The plan seems… unrealistic at best, but a threat is a threat. We must be vigilant.”

He looks at Byleth, narrowing his eyes. “The Archbishop and I will be busy during the Rite of Rebirth, as it is an incredibly important ceremony. Your class will be put in charge of security for the day.”

Byleth tilts their head. “What about the Knights?”

Seteth frowns, giving off an air of annoyance. However, he speaks to Byleth with pure professionalism. “They have their own missions, but rest assured--there will be Knights posted in the monastery, as well. If you have questions, I advise you to direct them to Alois.” 

Byleth nods.

“Thank you for this, Professor.” Rhea says. “I will be confined to the Goddess Tower for the duration of the Rite, praying for the return of the Goddess.”

Byleth gives another nod. 

“You may go. Be vigilant this month.” Seteth orders.

\---

“Assassinate the Archbishop?!” Caspar says, folding his arms. “Nuh-uh. No way we’ll let that happen.”

“Have no worries, Professor. Under our watch, no harm will come upon the Archbishop.” Ferdinand proclaims.

“Hm,” Hubert says, rubbing his chin. “Do you think this is really their main motive?”

“What else would it be?” Ferdinand asks with a frown, but he seems to be considering the idea.

“I agree with Hubert.” Edelgard says. “I think the plan to assassinate the Archbishop might be a ruse. The note was… too obvious.”

“I also agree.” Byleth says.

Dorothea looks at Byleth, frowning, although she stays uncharacteristically quiet.

“Ah! Should we be looking for the true cause of the plot?” Petra speaks up. “We should be investigate… investigating.”’

“You all can do that,” Linhardt says with a yawn. “And I... will not.”

“C’mon, Linhardt!” Caspar says, punching his shoulder. “I thought you liked mysteries!”

“Not ones that require walking around.” Linhardt mutters, rubbing his shoulder and wincing from the pain. Caspar keeps staring at him, and eventually Linhardt heaves a sigh. “Fine! I’ll help.”

“I… I’ll also help! Maybe!” Bernadetta says, her voice cracking. She fidgets. “But d--don’t count on it!” she adds quickly.

Byleth waits a moment for them to settle down, trying to ignore how Dorothea was staring a hole in their back.

“Actually, no need for investigating.” Byleth says, folding their arms. “Their goal is clear.” Perhaps it would be better to investigate, in order to seem less suspicious, but anyone with knowledge of the monastery could figure this one out in an instant. Besides, they’d rather not waste time with all the students cluelessly running around the monastery. This way, they could focus on other things. 

“Oh?” Hubert says, unfolding his arms. “Please, enlighten us.”

Byleth glances around the room. “It’s the Holy Tomb.” they say.

Edelgard raises a brow.

“And what makes you so sure?” Hubert asks.

“The Rite of Rebirth is the only time the public will have access to the tomb.” Byleth says. “The Holy Tomb will be unguarded, and it’s contents are much more valuable than anything else in the monastery.”

Edelgard stares, although her expression remains neutral. “That… makes sense, Professor.” she says, before folding her arms. “But I don’t think it’ll hurt to gather information, just in case.”

“I’m right.” Byleth mutters, folding their arms. Well. They tried.

“Hm? Professor, did you say something?” Hubert asks with an unpleasant smile.

Byleth looks away. “No.”

\---

The students file out of the classroom. All of them except for one.

“Professor?” Dorothea says. She walks up to Byleth folding her arms. “I think we need to talk.”

Ah. Was this about the mission at Magdred? “Of course. What do you want to talk about?” Byleth asks, playing dumb.

Dorothea shifts. “I think you know.” she says. “Back at Magdred--back when we were fighting Lord Lonato…” She trails off, frowning. “Why did you do it, Professor?”

“Do what?” Byleth asks, not sure which thing she was talking about.

Dorothea folds her arms. “The note.” she says. “The assassination plot. You didn’t pull it from anyone’s body. You…” She frowns. “Professor. What’s going on?” 

Ah. She knew? She had seen?

Well, shit. 

Byleth sits down at one of the chairs, leaning on the table. “I… can’t say.” they say.

Dorothea’s eyebrows lower, turning her frown into an almost glare. “Professor. I want to trust you, I really do. But… first the note, now the Holy Tomb?”

“Dorothea.” Byleth begins. “I promise, I’m doing my best to make sure everyone is safe. I can’t tell you any more than that.” They hesitate. “If… if I’m wrong about the Holy Tomb, if there’s no interlopers there, then you can go straight to Seteth and rat me out.”

Dorothea’s expression softens. “I don’t want to do that.” she says. “I just… sometimes, when I’m around you, I feel like I’m around someone really dangerous.”

“Yeah?” Byleth asks, looking away. “I get that a lot.”

“Alright.” she says quietly. “I’ll trust you, for now. But…”

Byleth looks back at her. But what?

Dorothea stares back quietly. It seems she didn’t know, either.

\---

Next was getting their sword, wasn’t it? They couldn’t help but feel impatience welling up within them. They hope this month goes by quickly--things would go a lot better once they had the Sword of the Creator.

They pull out their notebook, and write a line through one of the entries, making sure that no one could view the contents. They were at the dining hall, although a bit before dinner time, as to miss most of the rush. There weren’t very many people around, but they hold the notebook close to their chest, just in case.

_- ~~bandit guy at red canyon~~  
- ~~sylvains brother~~  
- ~~ashes dad~~  
-tomb with the creator sword  
-sylvains brother  
-save flynn  
-battle of the eagle and lion  
-remire  
-revenge  
-sothis’ throne room  
-war starts_

They still had more than half of their time left to make sure things changed. Although, it still felt like everything was the same. There were a few, small things, but Byleth was starting to wonder if it was even possible to make things different on such a large scale. What else could they do? 

They tap their pen against the paper impatiently. The problem was the house leaders. There was little reason to have them meet up with each other, aside from meals. If only there was a more private setting. Some kind of common cause. 

Byleth glances down at their notebook. Flayn’s kidnapping was a good excuse as any, but they had been planning to stop that before it happened. What was another excuse? Training exercise? That was so limited, and, besides--they weren’t supposed to bring other house leaders along for training.

Byleth closes their journal, putting their head on the table, face down. They didn’t have any resources. They were stuck within the walls of the monastery. They only had knowledge, and an infinite number of attempts. 

Maybe they couldn’t do this.

“Hey, Teach. Eat something bad?” 

Byleth turns their head just in time to see Claude taking a seat across from them.

“Uh… yeah.” Byleth lies. They grab their notebook and try to stealthily slide it back in their coat.

It immediately catches Claude’s eye. “Is that yours, Teach?” he asks.

Byleth puts it away. “Yes.” they say. “It has… notes on students. So you can’t see it.” 

Claude raises his eyebrows. “Never asked to.” he says.

Shit. They were such a bad liar. “Good.” they retort.

Claude tilts his head slightly, looking at them. Byleth can’t even guess what he’s thinking, but they really hope it isn’t about the notebook. Or how they were acting suspicious, in some way.

“Anyway,” Byleth mutters. “How are you?”

A smile spreads on Claude’s face. “Oh, are you making small talk?” he teases, before leaning on the table. “It’s been alright.” he adds, the smile fading. “Honestly, I’m more curious about your class, Teach. Tell me about the rebellion.”

And they do. They tell them how the expedition went, and the note that was left--the assassination plan against Rhea. They have no reason not to. 

Especially because they wanted his help.

Claude leans back with a whistle. “No wonder the Knights are so stiff this month.” he says. “But that seems a little obvious, doesn’t it?”

Byleth nods. “Definitely.” they say. “Their true goal has to be the Holy Tomb.”

“Huh,” Claude says, rubbing his chin. It takes him a moment to think through it, but he gives a nod in agreement. “Yeah, that’s where my aim would be, if I were them.” He pauses. “Who do you think’s behind it?”

Byleth folds their arms. “They have influence in the Gaspard region. So…”

“The Western Church, right?” Claude says. 

Byleth gives a nod of agreement. 

“Makes sense. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were behind the Magdred Rebellion, either.” Claude mutters, mostly to himself. He turns back to Byleth. “Teach,” he begins, “What’s in the Holy Tomb? I’m only sort-of familiar with the religion of Seiros.”

“Er…” Byleth says with a frown. The Sword of the Creator? But they wouldn’t know about that. If they recalled correctly, everyone seemed surprised to find the sword there. Well, everyone except Rhea. What was _supposed_ to be in the Holy Tomb? What was the Western Church trying to steal?

Claude looks at Byleth, before glancing away, covering his mouth to hide a wide grin. “Don’t know, either?” he says. “Guess you’re not very devout.”

The corner of Byleth’s mouth tugs up in a ghost of a smirk. “Oh, I’m not a believer at all.” they say, before pausing. “Don’t tell Seteth.” they add sarcastically.

Claude looks back, nodding. “Yeah, I figured.” he says. “Fódlan religion is strange. All the believers are…” He trails off, before shrugging. “Actually, let me stop before I say something offensive.”

“What’s the religion like where you’re from?” Byleth asks.

Claude pauses. “It’s kinda similar. We believe in a God that’s the source of all good things, and you worship by doing good deeds and being overall a good person.” he says. “Which is why the church Seiros is strange to me. It doesn’t demand anything but loyalty to its Goddess.”

“That itself is a big demand.” Byleth adds. 

“Too true, Teach.” Claude says with a sigh. “Especially all this Crest stuff.”

“Where did you grow up, for things to be so different?” Byleth asks, deadpan. They already knew the answer, but they did want to see what he would come up with.

“Mmm.” Claude says slowly. “Sorry Teach, but that’s still a secret. But maybe I’ll tell you someday.” he adds with a wink.

“Why’s it a secret?”

“My mom wants to keep her privacy.” Claude says, without hesitation. He must’ve practiced this, or at least thought of the answer beforehand. 

“Alright.” Byleth says. “I get that.”

Claude gives a small laugh. “You would.” he says. “I feel like… if you weren’t a teacher here, you’d go off and be a hermit in the woods.”

Byleth frowns. Did they give off that impression? It was how they lived, before--back when they lived with Jeralt. Personally, they never wanted to live like that again. “You think?” they say. “I’d get too lonely.”

Claude’s smile fades and his eyes widen, his thoughts are all too easy to read on his face. _Teach can get lonely?_

What kind of person did they seem like, to him? Were they really so standoffish that he thought they could just live alone and be fine? 

“Ah, sorry Teach!” Claude quickly says. “I didn’t mean it like--I mean, it’s kind of cute that you have a hidden side.”

Byleth sighs. “It’s fine, Claude.”

Claude straightens up. “Oh, yeah. I learned something you might find interesting.” he says, smoothly changing the subject. “Remember how we were talking about those bandits that ambushed us, way back when we met?”

Oh? Byleth had forgotten that they were still trying to figure that one out. “What about it?”

Claude leans in close. “It turns out they were hired by someone--it looks like an independent faction.” he begins. “And--I checked with staff, and it looks like Jeritza really was going to be the next professor, until you hopped in the picture.” He leans back. “It looks like someone was hired to chase away the previous professor, and replace him with Jeritza.”

“Huh.” Byleth says. That made sense. If the Flame Emperor really had hired the bandits, then putting Jeritza in a position of power made sense. 

Right--they hadn’t told that to Claude, had they?

“I learned something, too--”

“Good afternoon, Professor.” Edelgard greets politely, walking up to them, with Hubert trailing after her. “Oh--am I interrupting something?”

“It wouldn’t be proper to be saying anything too private to another house leader,” Hubert adds.

Claude shoots them a smile. “Nah, we were just talking about what we thought about today’s dinner.” he says. “Of course, you know Teach--they like anything.”

Byleth nods solemnly.

A smile spreads on Edelgard’s face. “That does sound like them.” she admits.

“Why don’t you join us for dinner?” Byleth blurts out. It was as good of a chance as any to get Claude and Edelgard to talk to each other.

Edelgard blinks, before relaxing slightly. “Yes. I think that would be nice.”

“I agree.” Hubert says, taking a step closer. “Lady Edelgard--shall I grab dinner for us?”

Byleth stands up. “Claude, I’ll get what we decided on.” they say. It would give the two of them a chance to speak alone--although, probably an awkward one.

Claude raises his eyebrows. “Sure, Teach.” he says, almost warily. They hadn’t actually decided on something to eat, but Byleth knew his tastes. However, Claude had no way of knowing that.

Hubert shoots Byleth a tight smile. “Shall we, Professor?” he says, but starts heading towards the front of the dining before waiting for an answer. 

Byleth follows after, giving one last glance back at the two house leaders.

“You’re incredibly close to another house leader.” Hubert comments. “One might almost find it… suspect.” 

“Oh? What’s wrong with making friends?” Byleth asks. The two of them stand in line, with Byleth behind Hubert.

“I hope you are just pretending to be this clueless, Professor.” Hubert says with a slight smirk. “You’re not a student, here to make friends. You’re a professor.” He takes a step forward as the line moves.

Byleth frowns. “You could stand to make more friends.” they point out, rather rudely. They take another step, following behind him.

Hubert starts chuckling, before throwing back his head in full-blown laughter. 

Byleth stares. What? This guy was unhinged. Either that, or he was playing some kind of complicated chess game that Byleth didn’t understand.

Hubert’s laughter subsides, and he covers his mouth. “My apologies, Professor. I do enjoy your little quips.” He takes another step forward in line.

“It wasn’t a joke.” Byleth says, folding their arms.“Let me introduce you to somebody.” They take a step.

“Ever so eager to play matchmaker,” he comments, tilting his head. “But I’ll pass, Professor. I have no need for any more friends.”

Byleth lets out a small sigh. “There’s no down side to making more allies.”

Hubert stops moving, and turns around to face them, tilting his head up and looking down at them with a cold expression. “Allies?” he asks. “Any fleeting friends I might make here will not be allies.”

Huh?

“What do you mean?” Byleth says, their eyebrows furrowing. 

Hubert raises an eyebrow. “Which part is confusing to you, Professor?”

“Friends and allies are the same thing.” Byleth says, shifting in place. That was all they’ve ever known. They knew what allies were, and “friends” was just another word for allies. Wasn’t it? 

Hubert stares at Byleth with a rather stumped expression. “What? Surely you don’t really think…” He trails off at the look on Byleth’s face, before giving a long sigh. “How is it you were qualified to be a professor?” he mutters, more to himself than Byleth.

“Wait,” Byleth says, staring at Hubert, starting to feel a small well of panic in them. “What’s the difference?”

Hubert narrows his eyes, shooting Byleth a cold look. “Is this how you charmed Lady Edelgard? With this show of naivety?” 

Byleth takes a step back, hardening their expression. They didn’t need this. In fact, they deeply regret saying something so stupid. “It’s your turn to get food. Turn around and pay attention.” they say, in their usual deadpan voice.

Had Hubert always been so mean? Or was it because they let slip something personal about themself? Normally they were like an empty shed, with every piece of them that made them “Byleth” stripped or hidden. 

Maybe they should go back to being like that.

They grab the food--a tray for them, and a tray for Claude--and head back to their seat, trying to ignore how hot their face felt.

\---

“Teach!” Claude says, waving them over. “Hurry--I think Edelgard and I really figured something out.”

Byleth walks at their normal speed to their spot across from Claude--and, now, next to Edelgard as well.

“Hello, Professor.” Edelgard greets.

Claude leans forward. “Get this,” he says. “Edelgard knows a lot more about the Church than both of us. She really helped me figure it out.”

Edelgard rolls her eyes. “Any noble is taught about the Church of Seiros.” she says. “It’s more of a miracle that you _don’t_ know about it.”

Claude smiles. “Yeah. It really is.” he says, before turning back to Byleth. “Anyway. Guess what’s kept in the Holy Tomb? The body of Seiros!” he says excitedly.

Byleth slowly nods, their mouth full of food. That would make sense. Too bad for the Western Church--Seiros wasn’t actually dead.

Claude blinks, before looking down at his own food for the first time. “Oh, this looks good.” he mutters, before taking a bite. “Wow Teach, how’d you know this is my fave?” 

“Lucky guess.” they say.

Edelgard clears her throat loudly. “What Claude was trying to say--we think that the Western Church is after the body of Seiros.” she says. “It would serve as a symbol of their legitimacy. It seems their goal is to usurp the Central Church as the head church of Fódlan.”

“Oh.” Byleth says. They never actually knew what the Western Church had actually been looking for. “I see.”

Edelgard nods. “Not that it changes our plan for the month. But it does add quite a bit of context.” 

“Your plan for the month?” Claude asks.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t reveal our movements.” Hubert says.

Edelgard shakes her head. “It’s fine, Hubert. I doubt that Claude, of all people, is tied up with the Western Church.”

Claude shoots her a smile. “Aw, thanks.” 

“It’s hardly because I trust you.” Edelgard says with a frown. “But the Western Church is solely contained in--obviously--Western Fódlan.” she says. “Far away from the Alliance.”

Claude nods. “Yup. I can honestly say, I never met a single person from the Western Church.” He pauses. “So, what’s your plan? Head to the Holy Tomb on the night of the Rite of Rebirth?”

“Yup.” Byleth says.

Claude nods again, satisfied. “Darn. Wish I could go with you. I’d really love to see it.”

“Why not?” Byleth asks. “I’m allowed to bring other members of the houses along.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Edelgard says with a frown. “But--don’t you have your own assignment? House leaders aren’t supposed to abandon their class.”

“Hm,” Claude says. “Alright.” he says, before taking a bite of his food.

Byleth looks over at him, scrutinizing him for a moment. Was that it? They expected him to protest a bit more. Well, they wouldn’t mind if he just so happened to show up at the Holy Tomb on the night of the Rite of Rebirth.

Which--if Byleth was a betting type of person--they’d bet on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being late! Here's a longer chapter, mainly because I couldn't figure out a better stopping point.
> 
> Also, small note--the religion of Almyra is based off of Zoroastrianism.
> 
> Thank you everyone who comments & kudos! <3


	13. Restless Again

Byleth walks into their room, drenched in sweat, and throws off their shirt unceremoniously.

They’d been pushing themselves hard, as usual, balancing their weekends with socializing and training. Not that they ever really felt like they needed extra training--every encounter they ever went through, they always felt more than prepared--but this time things were starting to go off the rails. Who knew what kind of enemies they would encounter? They had to be prepared, and so did the students.

Today’s training session was particularly challenging. Bandits near the lake--nothing abnormal, but there seemed to be more of them than normal, and halfway through a giant wolf joined the fight. Nothing that endangered anyone, but Byleth was tired. They just needed a moment to cool off. Goddess, they needed a shower.

Byleth sits down on the floor, too sweaty to sit on the chair or bed. They close their eyes for a moment. 

“Sothis?” they call softly. They hadn’t heard from her since her little crisis.

“What?” Sothis says, appearing before Byleth.

Byleth’s eyes pop open, and they stare. What--she just appeared? Just like that? They should’ve called for her earlier. “Hi.” they say lamely.

Sothis tilts her head, creases forming on her forehead. “Incredible. Is that all you had to say?”

“I missed you.” 

Sothis’ eyes widen, and her expression softens. “I... did not leave you, child.” she says, sitting down next to them. “I assume I missed nothing of importance? Your daily activities are incredibly dull.”

Byleth scowls. “No, they’re not.” they protest, before pausing. “We fought at Magdred.” 

“Tell me.” Sothis demands.

And, Byleth does. They tell her everything--the battle, the note, and Lonato.

“Hm,” Sothis says, satisfied. “So, you aim to side with the Empire?”

Byleth rubs the back of their head. “Not particularly.” they say. “But I don’t think anything else would convince him to leave.”

Sothis lets out a disapproving sigh. “Why must you save this man?” she asks.

“It’d make Ashe sad, if he died.” Byleth states, as if it were obvious.

The little goddess frowns. “You really do care for those little creatures.”

“I do,” Byleth says with a sigh, closing their eyes again.

“Now, now. Do not fall asleep, lest you miss dinner, again!” Sothis says, her ethereal hands moving through Byleth’s body in an attempt to shake them.

“Ugh. Right.” Byleth mutters, standing up.

“And, for the love of me, put on a shirt!”

Byleth begrudging pulls on an old shirt before heading to dinner. 

\---

“Professor, are you sure that is… appropriate?”

Byleth sits down with their tray of food.

Ferdinand sits across from them, shooting them a disapproving frown. Sure, they were wearing a sleeveless shirt--well, more of a tank top really, the type of thing they normally wore under other clothes--but it was hot, and it didn’t seem like a big deal to Byleth. 

“I can’t wear armor all the time, can I?” they ask. “And I don’t have a uniform, like you.” What they were wearing wasn’t as risque as what Manuela wore on the regular, although it was certainly more loose than their regular leather mercenary outfit.

Ferdinand shakes his head. “It just is not… proper.” he says, somewhat awkwardly.

“Why?” Petra pipes up from next to Ferdinand.. “In Brigid, it is strange to be wearing such restricting clothing.”

Ferdinand frowns, turning to Petra. “I appreciate your viewpoint, but this is not Brigid.”

Petra nods. “That is true.” she says solemnly.

Byleth shrugs and turns back to their food. It was too late to go back and change shirts. Besides, they were sure that Ferdinand was the only one that actually cared.

“Teacher,” Edelgard says, walking up from behind them. “Is this seat taken?” she asks cheerfully, gesturing to the seat next to Byleth.

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” Byleth says, turning to Edelgard. “Go ahead.”

Edelgard’s eyes lower to Byleth’s shirt, before immediately looking back up at their face, her posture stiffening as she stands straighter, almost more formally. “Thank you, Professor.” she says, sitting down and looking away.

Byleth blinks. Did they do something wrong? Maybe Ferdinand was right. They hoped that they hadn’t offended her, or anything.

The rest of the meal, Edelgard avoided looking at them.

\---

“ _Do_ you think she’s mad at me?” Byleth immediately asks Sothis when they get back in their room.

Sothis rolls her eyes. “Is such a small thing really bothering you that much?” she asks.

Byleth shifts. “Yes,” they mutter, frowning. “Edelgard and I… we’re supposed to be a team.”

Sothis raises a brow. “Oh? So you will side with her, again?”

“It’s not that simple.” Byleth says with a sigh. “Things can be done without violence. Or--with selective violence.”

Sothis tilts her head. “Explain further.” she demands, but she sits down, listening intently.

“I just need to assassinate key figures that are causing all of this.” Byleth explains. “No war needs to happen. Just a few people need to die.”

“And you know which people?” Sothis folds her arms, looking at Byleth with a steady expression, and she suddenly looks eons older than her young form suggests.

“I do.” Byleth says.

“Hm. Why don’t you tell Edelgard, then?” Sothis asks. “If she’s on your team.”

Byleth sits on their bed. “She doesn’t fully trusts me, yet.” they say. “There’s things that I want to do that… well, I don’t think she would go along with it.”

“Like killing her little allies?” Sothis prompts.

“Mhm.” Byleth agrees with a small nod. 

“What a long game you must be playing,” the goddess comments.

Byleth cracks the smallest of smiles. “Want to know my plans?” 

“Not at all. I prefer the surprise.” she says.

Byleth gives a singular laugh. “I can do that.” they say, before laying back down. Their gaze drifts, landing on the book. That book.

“Sothis,” Byleth begins, turning sideways in bed and propping themself up with their elbow. “Are you feeling better? About that stuff we read?”

“Hm?” Sothis says. “Oh, that. I just decided it doesn’t matter.”

She says it so matter-of-fact, as though they are discussing a lost handkerchief, and not her past history. The history that changed the continent. “Oh?” Byleth prods.

“Yes,” Sothis says with a sigh. “I am not the person in those books. I am not the person in Rhea’s memories. I am… me.” she says simply. “Or maybe… I am you?”

“Me?” Byleth asks, now wholly confused.

“Yes,” Sothis says, sounding slightly distracted. “I think having completely new memories means that I am a new person. No?”

“Mm. If you want to be.” Byleth says, closing their eyes. It made sense, in a way. And why couldn’t she?

“I do, Eisner. I do want to be.” she says, but her voice is quiet, distant. 

The last thing Byleth hears before drifting off to sleep.

\---

_You’re alone._

_Again._

_You curl up in your bed, wondering if you could turn invisible if you threw the covers over your head._

_He said he’d be back in a week, but a week became two, or maybe three. You should’ve kept count. It’s not the first time this has happened. You can be patient, but you can’t help but think. What if he never comes back? What if something happened to him?_

_No. If there was one thing you knew about your father, it was that he was strong, and smart. He wouldn’t die. That was impossible._

_But..._

_What if he liked being there more than being here?_

_Once the thought bubbles to the surface. You can’t let it out, almost obsessing over the thought until the numbness settles in, and you decide that it doesn’t matter._

_You’ve lived alone for this long. You could do it for as long as you needed._

_You step out of bed, ignoring the icy floor. You walk to the stove, grabbing the rabbit you had skinned and cured earlier. Roasted meat, again._

_The taste is bland. It tastes like every other meal you’ve had. You take a bite, forcing yourself to eat the whole thing. The taste was bad, but hunger was worse._

_The air is silent._

_No beasts outside. You swing your sword, and a bird flies by overhead._

_You wish you were a bird. You wish you were a sword._

_You swing your sword._

_The bird is gone. The trees are gone._

_You swing again._

_The cottage is gone. Everything is gone. You are alone. You are alone. You are alone._

_You are--_

Byleth wakes up, panting. They immediately throw the covers off themselves, standing up. They get dressed, haphazardly throwing just enough clothes on themselves to get out of the room.

“Hm? What is it? What was that dream?” Sothis says with a yawn. “Was that one of my memories?”

“No,” Byleth says, their face stony. “It’s one of mine.”

They storm out of their room, storming down the pathways. Their limbs were agitated--every bit of them had to move. They couldn’t be still. They couldn’t hide. They had to--they had to--

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sothis offers.

“No,” Byleth mutters.

They walk to the training grounds, throwing open the doors and grabbing a practice sword.

“Professor! I didn’t expect you to be--”

Byleth ignores them, whoever it was. They can’t talk. They have to move. They have to hurt. They move towards the nearest dummy and attack, swinging their sword, smashing into the dummy. They move in again, and again. They throw themselves towards the dummy, until they’re no longer Byleth but a sword. A sword that moves, that kills, that destroys. 

The dummy can only handle so much. Byleth swings again, and the wood cracks, the dummy collapsing.

Byleth stares at it. Their hands felt raw. Their arms felt hot. The gravel of the training grounds hurt their feet. They were out of breath, panting. 

They felt better. They take in a slow breath, before letting it out.

The sound of clapping echoes across the training grounds. Byleth turns their head to see Felix clapping, with Dimitri standing next to him, looking at Byleth with a stupefied expression.

“Impressive, Professor.” Felix says. “You were like a rabid animal. I hope you’re more controlled on the battlefield.”

“I am,” Byleth says softly. Their voice doesn’t feel like their own. They don’t want to talk. But it was a pleasant surprise that they weren’t alone. They at least should respond.

“Are you… all right, Professor?” Dimitri asks carefully, a worried frown on his face.

Byleth shakes their head. They’ll be fine, later.

Dimitri doesn’t seem satisfied, and worried lines crease his forehead. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

Byleth pauses a moment, before nodding. 

A wave of relief passes through Dimitri’s face. “What is it?”

Byleth hesitates again. “What were you doing, before I got here?”

“Training.” Felix says. “Want to spar with us?”

Byleth shakes their head. They didn’t want to fight a person. Not right now. “I’ll watch. Maybe I can give tips.” 

“Teaching a rival house?” Felix asks with a slight smirk. “You might regret this later.”

They shake their head again. They won’t.

Dimitri hesitates. “Are you sure that’s all we can do?” he says. 

Byleth looks at him for a moment. “Have you ever wanted to be a bird?” they ask, their voice still soft. “You could fly away. Just leave everything behind.”

Dimitri blinks. “Ah…”

Felix frowns. “What are you _talking_ about?”

Byleth looks away. “Nevermind.”

“Felix!” Dimitri scolds, before turning back to Byleth. “I don’t think I’ve wanted to be a bird, specifically. But I think I understand how you feel. I’ve wanted…” He trails off for a moment, his expression darkening. “At times, I’ve wished to be puma.”

Felix snorts. “You’re more of a boar.”

Dimitri sighs, but ignores the comment.

Byleth nods. Dimitri as a cat, running away from his responsibilities to hunt his prey. Byleth, a bird, free and aloof from the world below. In another time, they did become something like that. But never at the same time.

“I hope you don’t feel that often.” Dimitri says. “I--and others--appreciate that you are a person.” he adds, shooting them a comforting smile.

“I also appreciate that you’re a person,” Byleth says, returning the smile.

Dimitri stares for a moment, before his smile gets bigger. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you smile.” he says.

“Is that so? You better keep it a secret, then.” Byleth teases, although their voice is still soft and their expression doesn’t reveal that they were joking. They slide their hands in their pockets--or attempt to, before realizing they wore pants without pockets.

Felix shifts in place. “Enough talk. Let’s spar.” he says.

Dimitri looks over. “Yes.” He says, before glancing back at Byleth. “Please watch over us, Professor.” he says. The two students move to the middle of the training grounds, and start trading blows.

\---

“Thank you, Professor. I felt like we learned a lot from your pointers.” Dimitri says graciously. He tilts his head, in a ghost of a bow.

“Yes. It was productive.” Felix says with a nod.

Dimitri frowns. “Felix. You could do to be more respectful.”

Felix scowls. “Oh? The boar is going to teach me manners?” he taunts.

Byleth looks between them. “You shouldn’t call him that.”

“It’s what he is.” Felix retorts, folding his arms. “Have you ever seen him in battle, Professor? He’s as mad as a wild boar.”

“Felix,” Dimitri pleads.

“Why does it matter? Does he make you nervous?” Byleth asks.

Felix’s expression hardens. “No.” he says, before turning away. “I’m just warning you.”

Dimitri frowns. “I apologize for his behavior, Professor.” he says.

“Don’t apologize for me.” Felix, says, before grabbing Dimitri by the arm. “Come on _boar_ , we should be getting back.”

“You should go to bed, too. If you can.” Dimitri says, letting himself get dragged off. He gives a wave.

Byleth waves back. “I will,” they say. Admittedly, they did feel a lot better, after all that.

“ _Do you want to talk about it now?_ ” Sothis asks.

“Not yet,” Byleth says, their voice no louder than a whisper. “Maybe… someday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, I've always pictured Byleth wearing the M!Byleth outfit. Because it's honestly really cool looking. (And the F!Byleth outfit is very silly ...)
> 
> I'm actually quite a few chapters ahead in my draft but I'm holding back on posting them all because I might not have much time to write during the holidays >_> Have a happy Thanksgiving everyone!


	14. The Sword of the Creator

_The mountains are rising--no. You are falling._

_You’re falling to the ground, and the earth is cracked and spent, and the plants are wilted and sparse. Dying. Bleeding._

_What a waste. What an absolute waste. How dare they harm your land like this? How dare they?! You would teach them a lesson. The land is birthed again, in blue flames that purify the ground, in green flames that bring life to the beasts, the plants, to you, and in red flames that chase away the polluters. You make this your home. You clean the ground, and the world starts to sparkle._

_But you are alone. Ha! A problem you easily solve._

_A swell of pride fills you as your children walk the earth. She was wrong. You were meant to do this. Your benevolence ended wars. Your holiness saved the land. You are perfect, pristine, infallible--A God._

_You are a God. You are the only God. You are a God._

Byleth’s eyes shoot open, and they lay away, staring at the ceiling. Another dream? It hadn’t exactly been scary, but there was something deeply unsettling about it. 

Goddess above, couldn’t they have a peaceful sleep for once?

“That one was most definitely my dream.” Sothis says, sounding just as tired as Byleth felt.

“No shit.” Byleth mutters. “You seemed a little crazy, Sothis.”

“Hmph.” The Goddess says, folding her arms. “I already told you--that’s not me.”

“Sure,” Byleth says, rolling out of bed and heading to the bathroom. It was early, but too late for them to head back to sleep. They might as well get ready--it was the morning of the Rite of Rebirth, and they already knew it would be a busy day.

\---

Byleth sits at the entrance hall, geared up and waiting. They were early, but not early enough to really do anything else but wait for the rest of the class to be ready to go.

The public wouldn’t be allowed in for the Rite of Rebirth for a few more hours, but Byleth and their class was still on duty as security for the whole day.

Byleth pulls out their notebook. Unlike last month, they had no intention in changing anything. The Western Church idiots could die for all Byleth cared--their power struggle with the Central Church was completely inconsequential, and Byleth couldn’t find much pity for people who used the Church as a political institution, anyway.

Which meant more time to plan for next month. They flip their notebook, pulling up the list.

_- ~~bandit guy at red canyon~~  
- ~~sylvains brother~~  
- ~~ashes dad~~  
-tomb with the creator sword  
-sylvains brother  
-save flynn  
-battle of the eagle and lion  
-remire  
-revenge  
-sothis’ throne room  
-war starts_

Sylvain’s brother. Right, the tower. Byleth wonders if Sylvain’s brother was someone they should try to save. What did he even do? Steal stuff? They hadn’t really paid much attention, before.

They’ll ask Sylvain. If he really wanted his brother to be alive, they’d save him. They scribble a little note in the margins that said “ _save?_ ”.

“Planning our day, Professor?”

Byleth jumps, quickly shutting their notebook. “Yes,” they say, looking up to see Hubert taking a seat across from them.

Hubert gaze drifts down to the notebook. “I see.” he says.

Byleth pulls the notebook away, sliding it into their coat. 

Hubert’s eyes follow the notebook as Byleth puts it away. They didn’t like that, at all.

“Ah, Professor. I wanted to say--good work figuring out the plans of those attempting to infiltrate the monastery.” he says. “Very quick thinking on your part.”

“That’s our Teach, the quickest of thinkers.” Claude says, walking up. He leans over the table. “Your class is in charge of monastery security, yeah? I hope you don’t mind if I tag along. I just… I’m so worried about Lady Rhea.” Claude says, in an obviously fake worried tone.

“Claude von Riegan.” Hubert says slowly. “Did you decide to forsake your own house?”

“Nah.” Claude says, sitting down next to Hubert.

Hubert doesn’t move, but his frown deepens. 

“Our house was in charge of decorations. So, actually, we’re all finished! We get to enjoy the festival, unlike some people.” Claude explains, leaning on the table.

Hubert sighs. “I didn’t expect you would actually try to join us.” he says. “But I suppose there’s no reason to stop you.”

Claude shoots him a wink. “It’s actually much harder to stop me than you might imagine.”

“Is that so?” Hubert says with a smirk. “For your sake, I hope we never have to test that.”

Claude leans his head against his hand. “For my sake? Oh, Hubert.” he says, shaking his head. “You underestimate me!” 

“Perhaps.” Hubert says evenly, before standing up from the table. “I must go attend Lady Edelgard. I suppose I’ll see the both of you later.”

“Mhm. See you.” Claude says, giving a small wave, before turning to Byleth. “Fun guy. I think that’s the first time someone’s threatened me to my face.” he says with a small sigh. 

“To your face?” Byleth asks.

“Yeah. I mean, you know--Duke Gloucester’s none too fond of me. Not to mention… other people.” he says with a shrug. “But usually, I don’t get told before someone attempts to kill me.”

Byleth frowns. “You’ve had assassins come after you?”

Claude folds his arms. “Well, yeah. Don’t all heirs have to deal with that? Y’know, I talked to Petra, and she had similar experiences.”

Byleth puts their head in their hands. These poor children.

“Ah. I’ll take that to mean that it’s not normal at all.” Claude says, sounding relatively cheerful, considering the topic. “Or Teach is too far removed from the political machinations of nobles. Anyway, enough about that.” He shifts in his seat, sitting up straight. “What’s the plan, Teach?”

Byleth nods. “It’s not complicated. When the Rite of Rebirth starts, we go to the Holy Tomb and wait for suspicious activity. Then we stop it.”

Claude nods. “Simple. I like it.” 

\---

“Everyone, are you ready?” Edelgard says, as the class gathers in the hall. The class, and Claude. “You remember our plan. We’re going to--”

She cuts herself off as Seteth walks up to them. 

“Professor.” Seteth says, walking up to them. Flayn trails behind, giving a little wave to Byleth. “I’m about to head up to the Goddess Tower to meet the Archbishop. Please…” He trails off, his gaze settling on Claude. “This is not your class.” he says with a frown.

Claude sighs. “I know, but I was _so_ worried about Archbishop Rhea. I volunteered to help with security.”

Seteth considers it for a moment, rubbing his budding beard. “I suppose there’s no harm in that.” he says, before turning to Byleth. “Professor, tell me if he gives you any trouble at all. Normally, we do not allow house leaders to participate in assigned class activities for other houses.”

Byleth nods.

“And, do be careful Professor!” Flayn pipes up. “Brother may come off as stern, but he was actually quite worried for you. As am I.”

Seteth clears his throat. “Thank you, Flayn. We should be going now.” he says through clenched teeth.

Byleth nods. They should wish him well, right? What would they say? Have fun? Be safe? “Good luck with the ritual.” they go with.

Seteth gives a nod in acknowledgement, before turning away.

Flayn pauses for a moment. “Professor!” she whispers loudly. “I am doing that exercise of which you have tasked me! I will show you my progress at our next fishing class!”

“Good work.” Byleth says, giving her a thumbs up.

Flayn beams.

“Flayn! We are leaving!” Seteth calls from the other side of the hall.

Flayn jumps, and gives a quick wave to Byleth and the class. “Goodbye!” Flayn says, before running over to catch up with her brother.

The class turns to look at Byleth.

“Fishing class?” Linhardt says, sounding mildly interested.

“Long story.” Byleth says with a sigh. “Now, let’s focus on the task at hand.”

\---

Green light reflects back on the stones of the walls and floor, creating an eerie glow only disrupted by the yellow of torch light. The class slowly steps down towards the tomb, as quietly as possible.

“They’re already here. It looks like you were right, Professor.” Hubert says, tone hushed.

And they were. Even though they had arrived earlier than they should, the Western Church stooges were already set up, their people spread throughout the Tomb.

Byleth’s eyes immediately go to the stone coffin at the opposite side. There it was. Their sword. Their hand tightens against the steel blade in their hand. It wasn’t the same. After that, nothing else was the same.

And they were finally going to get it back.

“Let’s clear them out.” Byleth says.

“Be careful of that mounted knight over there,” Edelgard warns. “He looks strong. We should avoid him unless necessary.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Claude says, his eyes sweeping the Tomb. “I’d love to look around, but it looks like we don’t have time for that.” he says with a frown. “If we drag our feet, they’ll get away with whatever’s in that Tomb.”

“Seiros’ body,” Edelgard mutters. Claude gives a nod in agreement.

“This should be easy enough.” Byleth says, their eyes not moving from the tomb. “Avoid the knight. Make your way to the back. Let’s go.”

\---

The battle goes by easily enough. Nothing special had to be done, except avoid the Death Knight, but the students were good and stayed away.

As much as they want their sword, Byleth doesn’t press forward _too_ quickly. They had to wait for the enemy to open the grave, first. It wouldn’t do for them to look like a grave robber. Rhea might not let them keep their sword. Besides, wasn’t there some sort of seal? Byleth didn’t really remember too much about that. They had always just waited until the masked enemy pulled the sword out of the grave, first.

However, they could only be so patient. Byleth hovers near the back of the Holy Tomb, waiting for their chance. The students needed the experience more, anyway. 

There! He was opening the grave! Byleth rushes forward excitedly, knocking the sword out of his hands with a fluid motion, and then quickly picking it up.

“ _You are so weird._ ” Sothis comments with a sigh. “ _Why so excited over an ugly sword?_ ”

Byleth frowns. How dare she call it ugly?! Besides, it was technically her bones. She knew that, right? They’re pretty sure they told her. 

They give the sword a single shake, and it breaks into its chain form, glowing a light red.

Byleth doesn’t listen to whatever the masked mage had to say. They twist the sword around them, and it sings in the wind as the ridges tear through them.

“ _Ah. I guess I can see the appeal, now._ ” Sothis adds.

They shake the sword again, and it reforms into a blade, a blade that glows a slight red. Byleth holds it in both hands, basking in the glow. Their sword! Their trusty, beautiful sword. 

“Professor!” Edelgard calls, running up to them. The rest of the class follows behind, all gathering towards them. “It looks like you stopped them. What all was in the tomb?”

Byleth holds up the sword to show her.

Edelgard’s eyes widen, and she walks over to the tomb to take a glance inside. “A sword?” she says. “No, wait--isn’t that--?”

“The Sword of the Creator? Pardon my Brigid, but holy shit.” Claude says, running his hand through his hair.

Petra frowns. “That is not a phrase in Brigid.”

“Drop your weapons and surrender. The Knights of Seiros are here!” A voice yells from the other end of the Holy Tomb, as Catherine and the Knights of Seiros come rushing in. She pauses, looking around. “Looks like you got this under control. We’ll capture any stragglers.” Her gaze lowers to the weapon in Byleth’s hands. “I think you need to report to Lady Rhea, immediately.” she adds, her tone suddenly ice cold.

“I don’t think she likes you.” Claude comments. “Well, have fun, Teach.”

Byleth nods. “Thanks. I will.” they say absentmindedly, their gaze still on the sword.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone had a good holiday! 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are appreciated <3!!


	15. Changes

Byleth steps into Rhea’s office, gripping the Sword of the Creator as if they were a drowning man. It had been too long. They weren’t letting go of it again.

“Professor,” Rhea says warmly, a sparkle in her eye. Despite the commotion during the Rite, she seemed in better spirits than before. Byleth could guess as to why, especially because her gaze kept drifting to how Byleth was gripping the sword. Fine, let her misunderstand. It couldn’t hurt.

Seteth, however, looked the same as always, staring at Byleth with a steely gaze.

“I’m so glad you are well. And--how intuitive of you to sleuth out the real motives of our enemies.” Rhea praises them, “I placed my trust in the right person.” She pauses. “I heard that the Sword of the Creator responded to you. What a rare occurrence, indeed.” She smiles. “I think the Sword has chosen you, Professor. I would like for you to keep it.”

“What?” Seteth says suddenly, looking at Rhea with wide eyes. “You can’t be serious. Giving the Sword to a stranger?!”

“The Professor is no stranger, Seteth.” Rhea says, chiding him gently. “I know their family well. I trust them to be responsible and use this Relic for the greater good.”

Seteth frowns with clear disapproval. “I… if you trust them so much, then I can’t disagree.” he says, despite looking as though he disagreed very much. 

“Thank you, Seteth.” Rhea says softly, before turning to the entryway expectantly. 

As if on cue, Catherine strides into the room. “Lady Rhea! Here are the captured enemies.” the knight says, walking in with a dozen or so chained men. 

“I see.” Rhea says, the warmth in her voice evaporating. “I am disappointed in the Western Church for their treachery,” she begins. “The Goddess does not smile upon those that betray her.”

“We’re not from the Western Church!” one man yells out.

Byleth tilts their head. They weren’t? Was that a lie, or was there some deep misunderstanding?

“It is too late for your lies. We have already identified you.” Rhea says coolly. “Have these men executed.”

Ah. It would just be something that Byleth would never know the truth about, then. They can’t imagine any way they could spare these men. Besides--they didn’t really care if these people lived or died, anyway.

“Yes, Lady Rhea.” Catherine says. She grabs the chains and starts pulling them out.

“No! No, this is wrong--the Goddess would not want this!” another man gives a panicked yell.

Rhea narrows her eyes. “How dare you presume to know what the Goddess would want?” she says, before turning away, while the prisoners are dragged off. She looks ahead for a moment, her expression slowly softening, before she looks to Byleth. 

“I apologize you had to see that.” she says, giving a sad shake of her head. “It truly is tragic that believers of the Goddess could find themselves so twisted.”

Byleth steals a glance at the prisoners being dragged off. Rhea really was harsh. It’s not as if they were actually trying to assassinate her.

Rhea sighs. “Ah, but I digress. I deeply appreciate your efforts. Please continue your good work, Professor.” she says, before giving a nod of dismissal.

\---

Byleth had barely taken a step outside of the Archbishop’s office only to be ambushed by the two house leaders.

“Teach! Just the person I wanted to see.” Claude says. 

“Yes. I was also hoping to talk to you.” Edelgard says, glancing at Claude.

Byleth looks between them. “Sure. What did you want to talk about?”

“Can I see the Sword of the Creator?” Claude asks immediately. 

Edelgard shoots him a glare.

Byleth’s grip tightens on the sword. “No.” they say, holding it closer to them.

Claude puts his hands up. “Okay, okay! But… maybe later?”

Byleth takes a step back. The image of Miklan turning into a demonic beast wouldn’t fade from their mind so easily.

“Claude. Give it up.” Edelgard says with a sigh. “The Archbishop entrusted the sword to Byleth. I don’t think it would be a good idea to try to take it.”

Claude pouts. “Not even for a little bit?”

“No, Claude.” Byleth says, before pausing. “Were you two just waiting for me?”

A ghost of a smirk passes through Edelgard’s face. “No. We were talking, actually.” she says.

Claude gives a grin. “Princess here is actually pretty fun to talk to,” he says. “Although she’s not as smart as she looks.”

Edelgard frowns. “I admit--coming from Adrestia, I never had to worry about Almyra.” she admits. “It’s interesting to see the Alliance perspective.”

“And I haven’t thought too much about Crests.” Claude admits. “That’s not as big of a thing over in the Alliance.”

“It still is a ‘thing’.” Edelgard insists. “I’m surprised you seem so oblivious. Maybe you’re more sheltered than you act.”

“And you’re more naive.” Claude shoots back.

“Me? Naive? You must be joking.”

“I never joke, Princess.”

Edelgard sighs. “I’m glad you came out when you did, Professor.”

“I agree.” Claude says, grinning wide. “I feel like there’s only so much time before Princess hits me.”

Edelgard scoffs. “Please. Do you really think of me as so unrefined?”

Claude looks at her for a moment, raising his eyebrows. “Maybe not, but I think you could get there.”

“Claude.” Byleth says, as a warning.

Claude gives a shrug. “Sorry, your Highness.” he says.

“Stop calling me that.” Edelgard says, folding her arms. “We’re all equals here.”

Claude raises an eyebrow. “Okay, Edelgard.” he says, pausing for a moment as a smile plays on his lips. “No take backs.”

Byleth starts to walk past them.

“Professor, hold on a moment. We didn’t even start to talk, did we?” Edelgard asks, but her eyes sparkle playfully. 

Byleth shifts. “What did you want to talk about?”

Edelgard glances back at Claude, as if expecting him to leave.

Claude doesn’t get the hint, instead looking at Edelgard expectantly.

She clears her throat. “Do you mind?”

Claude gives a small, lopsided smile. “Aw, alright,” he says, before giving a wave. “Bye, Teach!”

Byleth looks back at Edelgard, meeting a piercing stare with her lavender eyes. 

“How interesting,” Edelgard asks quietly. “You know, inheriting a Heroes’ Relic means you have the blood of that Hero running within you--yet Nemesis was said to not have any children.” She tilts her head. “Do you know how you can use the Sword of the Creator?”

Byleth shrugs. “Nope.” they say.

Edelgard shakes her head. “It’s not too important, anyway. Things like Crests and Bloodlines don’t matter to me.” she says, before pausing. “But… you’re just an enigma, Professor.” She pauses. “I only wish I had more time to figure you out,” she adds with a mutter.

“What do you mean?” 

“I… have a condition which means my lifespan is shorter than most,” Edelgard admits. “I don’t have the luxury of time, unlike most.”

Byleth’s eyes widen. Oh. She had the same issue as Lysithea! 

“Is there a cure?” Byleth asks.

“No.” Edelgard’s face is hardened, unfeeling. She seems used to the answer, and if Byleth had to guess, it was something she had to tell herself often.

“What if there was? Would you want it?”

Edelgard blinks, and for a short moment, a flash of hope passes between them, before quickly stifling it. “There’s not. It would be silly to hope for something like that.” 

Ah. That was a yes.

“I see.” Byleth says, before pausing. “I won’t give up.”

“Professor? Give up on what?”

The corners of Byleth’s mouth turn up, just slightly. It was fun when Edelgard didn’t have all the answers.

“Professor! What’s with that look?” she asks, her face turning a slight shade of red.

“Nothing,” they say casually, before turning away. “I’ll see you in class, Edelgard.”

\---

Everything was the same. Lessons, meals, tutoring. And, yet, Byleth felt different. They felt alive--more like themself. Like they finally had their missing piece. Sometimes, they wondered if they actually got so attached to the sword, or if it had something to do with their connection to the Goddess.

Either way, they were more than glad to have it back. For the first few weeks, Byleth would bring the sword to class and place it in the corner, which was unfortunately incredibly distracting to most of the class.

“Professor! You must show us the Sword of the Creator!” Ferdinand says.

“Yeah, c’mon Professor! Give it a swing!” Caspar adds.

Byleth frowns. “This room is too small.” they say.

“You could give a demonstration after class.” Linhardt offers.

Byleth pauses, then nods. “Okay. I’ll do that.” they say. 

Sylvain sighs loudly. “Wow. The Empire really doesn’t have their own Heroes’ Relics, huh?” he says. “It’s really not that interesting.”

“Oh, do be quiet.” Linhardt says, his eyes still glued to the sword. “This isn’t any Heroes’ Relic. This is the Sword of the Creator.”

Sylvain shrugs. “Guess I just don’t see the appeal.”

“Really?” Dorothea says, with raised eyebrows. “I mean… this is a legendary sword. You’re not interested, at all?” she asks. Her gaze drifts over to Byleth, lingering on them for a moment.

“I mean, it’s just a sword.” Sylvain says.

Ferdinand scoffs. “Clearly you have no respect for weaponry, but you must admit this is a historical piece.”

“Eh.” Sylvain says with another shrug. 

Ferdinand furrows his brow, as if Sylvain’s attitude was incomprehensible.

“Everyone. Please focus.” Edelgard says loudly. “The Professor is trying to teach--let’s all focus.”

“Thank you.” Byleth says. “Now--today we’ll be learning about dueling versus fighting multiple enemies…”

\---

In order to quell the students, Byleth does conduct a small demonstration after class, but the Sword of the Creator doesn’t leave their hands. They doubt it would be able to corrupt anyone without the Crest Stone, but Byleth wasn’t taking that chance. And, besides--it felt nice to hold it.

Eventually, the students dissipate--all except one.

“Dorothea. Do you need help with something?” Byleth asks the remaining student.

Dorothea frowns. “You were right, Professor.” she says. “About the thieves.” She pauses, her eyes not leaving Byleth. “Why?”

Byleth blinks. “Why… what?”

Dorothea bites her lip. “Why… why did you leave the letter? Why are you able to use the Sword of the Creator?” She folds her arms.

Byleth isn’t sure what to say. They’re not sure what to tell her, either. They look down at the sword in their hand.

“Do you believe in the Goddess, Dorothea?”

She narrows her eyes. “No. I don’t.” she says. The answer is immediate and resolute.

Oh. Byleth shifts again. There went that explanation. Maybe they could try it, anyway? “The Goddess has given me some of Her power.”

Dorothea stares at Byleth as though they had lost their mind.

Ah. Okay, that was really, really bad. 

Time stops. Byleth wonders for a moment just how far back they should go. Maybe they should avoid talking to Dorothea altogether.

They pull back time--it’s harder to tell when to stop when all they have to go off of is the small gestures that are involved with talking. Byleth watches Dorothea’s lips, her arms, trying to figure out which word went where, and starting to realize that they never paid much attention to those kinds of things before. 

Time starts again.

“...are you able to use the Sword of the Creator?” Dorothea finishes, and folds her arms.

“I don’t know,” Byleth admits. “Can you trust me for a little longer?”

Dorothea narrows her eyes. “You said that last time, Professor.” she says, before hesitating. “But… you’ve never led us wrong.” she admits. She shifts, clearly unsatisfied with the conversation. “When can you tell me?”

“Pegasus Moon.” Byleth says immediately. That was when their hair would turn green. Anything they say would be believable by then.

Dorothea blinks. “Oh.” she says, taken aback. “Okay. That’s… I suppose I can wait until then…”

“Thanks,” Byleth says, giving Dorothea a pat on the shoulder and starting to head off.

She flinches.

Byleth pretends to ignore it.

\---

“Must you continue to caress that thing even when we’re alone?!” Sothis demands, sending Byleth a deriding glare as they sit on the bed with the Sword on their lap.

“I’m cleaning it.” Byleth protests, before shooting a glance out the window. It had been dark for a while. They were getting a little tired, but they couldn’t sleep. Not yet.

“You are making this so weird.” Sothis scoffs, watching Byleth polish the sword. 

“It’s you, Sothis. I’m just treating you well.” Byleth says, smirking.

“Oh, no more of your awful jests.” Sothis complains. “Besides, that’s not me--remember? I refuse to be the same as the dead Goddess.”

“Mm. Yes, of course.” Byleth glances out the window one more time.

“You’re not listening to me, at all!” Sothis says, throwing up her arms.

And, they weren’t. Byleth looks at the sword in their hands. This was the moment they had been waiting for. They finally had the Sword of the Creator, which meant they were solidly on Rhea’s good side. Which meant they could get away with a lot more than they could before.

Byleth stops polishing, and glances at the window yet again. “It’s pretty late, right?”

“Hm? Yes, for you people, I suppose it is.” Sothis says. “Why?”

Byleth stands up. Late enough that they wouldn’t run into too many people, but not too late that Tomas would already be gone. They grab their sword, and the book that Tomas loaned them. 

“I think it’s time for me to return my library book.”

Byleth steps outside, their steps moving them closer to the library. 

Would Tomas be at the library? 

If he wasn’t, they could just come back.

Their steps hit the stone ground.

They move forward. Up the stairs.

For Remire. For Flayn.

“Professor, it’s late. How can I help you?”

Tomas. _Solon._

Byleth says nothing.

The Sword of the Creator slices through his flesh with no resistance.

Tomas falls to the ground, his form melting away. 

Tomas--no.

Solon.

They drop the book on the ground, a quiet thud. It soaks up blood.

They take a step back, then another. Then they run, straight to Jeralt’s office

“Jeralt!” they say, loud but not a yell. They don’t want to wake up anyone else--not yet. They knock at his door, and keep knocking until he opens.

“Mmn?” Jeralt says, rubbing his eyes. “What’s up, kiddo?”

“I was attacked.”

In an instant, Jeralt is wide awake. He swears, running to his office to grab his gear. “Where? Who was it?” he says.

“It was some man.” Byleth says. “In the library. I went to return a book, and he just attacked me.”

Jeralt nods. “Show me.”

And they do. Byleth leads him to the library, hesitating at the doorway.

“Stay here.” Jeralt says, before heading inside. He curses again.

Byleth stands by the doorway.

“Professor? Dear, what’s going on…?” Manuela says, rubbing her eyes. It looks like they might have woken her up. Perfect. 

“I was attacked.” Byleth admits. 

Manuela peers inside the library. “Oh? What--” she begins, before her face pales. “Dear Goddess…” she mutters, clutching her chest. “I’ll go--let me get the other Knights.” she says, before running off.

Byleth could’ve kissed her. They can’t imagine it working better than that.

“Byleth. Are you alright?” Jeralt says, kneeled down over Solon. “Hurt anywhere?”

“No.” they reply.

“Good.” Jeralt says. “Go help Manuela. Get Alois.”

Byleth nods. Jeralt was as pragmatic as ever. It didn’t bother them too much, this time, since they hadn’t actually been in any danger.

They head off, taking their sword with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I took a small break during the holiday, but everything's going to be right on schedule again. 
> 
> Time for Byleth to (finally) make a real big change! Woohoo! It only took what, 40k words? OTL
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	16. Rhea

The Knights were in charge of the investigation, with Catherine leading in charge. 

“Tell me what happened.” Catherine had asked them.

And Byleth tells her--the same story they told Jeralt. 

A man was there. He attacked them. Byleth retaliated.

They bring Byleth to the body. Nobody knows who he is. The Knights, Catherine, Byleth. 

And, finally, all the noise catches Rhea’s, even though the sun was still yet to rise.

“What’s going on?” Lady Rhea demands, her voice full of steel. Seteth walks next to her, his expression matching Rhea’s voice.

Catherine jolts upright. “Lady Rhea.” she says. “There was an attack in the monastery. An investigation is underway.” She gestures to the body. “An unidentified man attacked Professor Byleth this last night.”

Rhea’s eyes go wide, and she turns to Byleth. “Dear child, are you all right?” she asks, although her voice shook as she spoke, as though she was the one that had been hurt.

“I’m unharmed.” Byleth replies. They can’t help but feel a sick satisfaction. This was working just as they had imagined. Rhea would be sympathetic to almost anything that they would do, now that they had the Sword of the Creator. Especially if they were attacked.

Rhea nods slowly, soothed. “That is good to hear.” she says, squeezing her eyes closed for a moment. “Professor… won’t you come with me to the third floor?”

Catherine frowns. “Lady Rhea, we need them for the investigation.”

“I will only borrow them for a little while.” Rhea insists gently, but it was clear that Catherine couldn’t say no. “Besides, I think it would be best for the Professor to get away from the incident for a while.”

Byleth felt as though they couldn’t say no, either. They give a small nod.

Rhea shoots them a warm smile, before holding out her arm. “Shall we walk?”

Ah. They’ve never done something like this before, with anyone. They walk to her, linking arms, hoping that it wasn’t too awkward for Rhea.

They walk in silence, and as they ascend to the third floor, Rhea eventually breaks the silence, giving a sheepish laugh. 

“I hope you did not feel forced to walk with me,” she says, a slight playful smile on her face. “Next time, Professor, please know that you may say no.” she says, before opening the door to her bedroom. “Come in.” she says, gesturing inside.

Byleth walks inside. It wasn’t a place they went many times--even after Rhea was kidnapped by the Empire, there was never much of a reason to visit the room. It’s nice, far nicer than any other room in the monastery. Being Archbishop definitely had its perks.

“Please, relax. Sit.” Rhea says, pulling up a chair for Byleth. Rhea sits on the bed, across from it.

Byleth sits, pausing for a moment. “Why did you bring me here?” they ask.

Rhea’s expression falls slightly. “I thought you could use a break from the horrible scene.” she says. “And… truth be told, I am being slightly selfish. My own mother was killed in the night, when she was sleeping. Horrors like this… bring back bad memories.”

Byleth frowns. “I’m so sorry.” they say. They hesitate for a moment, before reaching over and giving her what they hope is a reassuring hand on her shoulder. 

Rhea leans towards them for a moment. “Thank you,” she says quietly, her voice no louder than a whisper. 

They sit in silence for a moment longer, the two of them touching in the slightest way, yet more than enough to provide Rhea comfort. She closes her eyes for a moment, before straightening. 

“I apologize you have to see me in this moment of weakness,” she says, but her voice, her expression shows the truth--she wanted them to see her weak, scared. She wanted them to comfort her.

No, she wanted Sothis to comfort her. It hurt when Byleth thought about it, but they forced themself to remember. She wasn’t looking at them. She was looking at her mother.

Byleth’s expression softens. Someday, she would look at them and see them. And hopefully, it wouldn’t take either Rhea’s imprisonment, or Rhea turning on them.

“Sweet child,” Rhea murmurs. “I never knew such an expression could cross your face.”

“Oh? Uh… sorry for that.” Byleth says, their expression returning to their neutral look.

Rhea gives a giggle.

Byleth starts to smile, just slightly. Ha! See, someone could tell when they were joking! Even though that wasn’t totally a joke. Ah, well.

Rhea shakes her head as her laughter dies, pulling herself up. “Thank you.” she says. “You really do remind me of Jeralt. You have his sense of humor.”

They did? They’re not sure that’s a good thing.

“And you are as sweet as Sitri.” she says, her voice softening again.

“My mother.” Byleth says, as quiet as Rhea. They never knew much about her. “What was she like?”

“Sitri was a wonderful girl. So bright, and curious. She often told me she wanted to travel the world, but unfortunately, due to her poor health, she had to live in the monastery.” Rhea says. “She was younger than me, so I often took care of her. I…”

Rhea’s expression crumples for a moment. 

Oh, shit. Byleth was never the best at this kind of thing. Instinctively, they stop time, if only to give themselves a moment to think. How could they comfort someone that was grieving? How had they been comforted, when Jeralt died? Whose comfort did they like, and whose did they dislike? 

They start time again, and slide forward, slightly closer to Rhea. “Rhea,” they begin. “Go ahead and cry. Cry as much as you like, and I’ll be here. Tell me about every memory that burdens you, and I’ll listen. And, when you’re done, please don’t forget that those who care for you are still here.”

Byleth is glad their face doesn’t betray their feelings. It felt incredibly embarrassing to say something that corny, but they knew she needed to hear it.

Rhea doesn’t look at Byleth, and her gaze falls to her lap. “You really are…” she whispers to herself. She pauses another moment, before straightening up. She turns to Byleth, her expression now collected, as before they had entered the room.

“Thank you deeply for your comfort.” Rhea says with emphasis. “I almost feel embarrassed. But… thank you.”

She turns, reaching over and giving Byleth’s hands a squeeze, before standing up. “I will stay here for a moment longer. Please--join Catherine in her investigation.”

Byleth nods, and stands up as well. They turn to head out of the room.

“ _My goodness! That woman needs some help._ ” Sothis comments, rather rudely.

“That’s what I’m here for,” Byleth mutters, once they’re a decent distance from Rhea’s room. 

\--- 

And, the very next day, Byleth was scheduled to have their monthly meeting with Rhea.

Rhea stands in front of them, as regal as ever. It’s almost as if those intimate moments in her room never happened.

Byleth wonders how often she has moments like that, but without anyone there to comfort her.

“Professor,” Rhea greets, and there’s a certain genuine warmth that had been missing before. “I know you must still be shocked by the events that happened the other night.”

“Unfortunately, the attacker has not yet been identified.” Seteth says with a frown. “But there’s no time to rest.”

“Your mission this month is to eliminate a band of thieves in Kingdom territory.” Rhea begins. 

“The leader has stolen the Heroes’ Relic from House Gautier of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus--the Lance of Ruin. Their leader’s name is Miklan. Apparently, he’s a disowned son of House Gautier.” Seteth continues. Byleth’s head moves between the two of them, following the speaker. The two were so smooth, picking up on the conversation easily, and Byleth wouldn’t be surprised if they could even finish each other’s sentences. They must really know each other very well.

Ah, right, the thief. Sylvain’s brother. So, his name was Miklan. Byleth often had trouble remembering the names of people that they didn’t meet within the walls of the monastery.

Probably because they weren’t worth remembering.

“You said he was a thief?” Byleth asks.

“The Heroes’ Relics are powerful weapons that cannot fall into the wrong hands.” Seteth says firmly. “Unfortunately, most of the Knights are out of the monastery, purging the apostates from the Western Church. So, this falls to you. You should be more than capable, with the Sword of the Creator on your side.”

“The Sword of the Creator is a powerful weapon, its power far surpassing the other Relics.” Rhea adds. “However, to ensure that no harm falls upon the students, we will send one of our most skilled Knights to aid you.”

Ugh. Gilbert. Byleth couldn’t stand that man. 

“I must remind you that you must conduct yourself befitting of one that wields that holy sword.” Seteth says stiffly. It’s clear he still doesn’t trust them. 

Byleth hopes they can change that over time. Or--maybe he would never trust them. That would be oddly refreshing.

Seteth pauses. “Also, you should know that Professor Hanneman has been looking for you.”

\---

“...The Crest of Flames!” Hanneman exclaims excitedly. “That is what your Crest is! How rare! I wonder--what is your family history like? Do you know…” He pauses a moment, the wide grin on his face calming down to a more serious expression. “You wouldn’t know anything about your mother’s side, would you?” he asks. “Jeralt wouldn’t tell me a thing!”

Byleth shakes their head. Their mother--well, that was the can of worms, wasn’t it? Certainly not something they could tell Hanneman. At least, not now. 

Hanneman nods, stroking his beard. “I see.” he says, his eyes sparkling like a kid with a new toy. “I hope you don’t mind if I do a little research, myself?”

“Go ahead.” Byleth says. Hanneman’s research was harmless. If anything, it was kind of fun to find out that there was something about their past to be researched. 

Hanneman nods again, and starts pacing back and forth in his office. “I see, I see.” he mutters. “Thank you, Professor! And, please--stop by anytime you please. You’re always pleasant to chat with, even if it is a bit one-sided.” he says with a small chuckle.

They were? What kind of people was he talking to normally, that talking to _them_ would be pleasant?

“I will.” Byleth promises.

\---

The news of the incident spread through the monastery at an impressive speed. Byleth couldn’t walk two feet without being asked about it.

“Professor, I heard you cut off his head! Is that true?”

“Did he use magic? Swords? How did he attack you?”

“I heard he blew up half of the library!”

“I heard he killed Tomas before attacking you!”

“Class.” Byleth says, their voice only slightly louder than normal. The whole class had been hounding them with questions, and Byleth was refusing to answer any of them. Although, it meant that teaching had been going by a bit slower than normal.

The whole class, except for Edelgard and Hubert. The two of them had been talking together more than usual, their heads together until Byleth called attention at the front of the class.

Well. Byleth could give a few guesses as to why. They weren’t sure if the two knew Solon personally or not, but he was very clearly a member of Those Who Slither in the Dark. Beyond that, Byleth wasn’t sure of what Edelgard was planning to do next. In all honesty, they didn’t even have a good guess. They knew she wasn’t a fan of them, either, but would she be upset? Or would she be happy about this turn of events?

They were starting to get into uncharted territories, which excited Byleth. Finally, they might see how their changes were actually affecting things. And, they weren’t afraid--not at all. Their powers to control time were more than enough for them to face any challenge.

“Everyone, please! The professor is trying to teach.” Edelgard says, her voice carrying far further than Byleth’s.

They deeply appreciate when the students quiet down. 

“I’m not talking about what happened.” Byleth says. “But I am teaching a class. So, no more questions. Understand?”

A few students give a “yes, professor,” in reply, but Byleth moves ahead with the lesson anyway.

\---

After dinner, Byleth makes a beeline towards their room. There wasn’t too much they could get done while they were dodging questions, anyway.

Or, at least, that was the plan.

“Professor.”

A short, white-haired girl stands in front of Byleth’s room, folding her arms.

“Lysithea.” Byleth greets with a small nod. “You’re blocking my room.”

“I know.” she says, and she stands up straighter, as if that would somehow make her taller. “I wanted to talk to you, Professor, but you’ve been hard to find, today.”

Byleth shrugs. “You can guess why.”

“I want to join your class.” she says. “You’re clearly very talented. I could learn a lot from you.”

Byleth blinks. “Oh.” they say. “Okay. That sounds great. See you in class tomorrow.”

Lysithea raises an eyebrow. “Huh. This was surprisingly anticlimactic. I had the feeling you have been trying to recruit me for a while.”

“Really?” Byleth says, although she wasn’t exactly wrong. They had been wanting to recruit her. It was just--currently, there were a lot of other things on their mind.

Lysithea shifts. “Oh. Right. You were attacked, weren’t you? I’ll leave you alone.”

“Er--you’re fine.” Byleth says awkwardly. “See you in class tomorrow.” they say again, hoping that she would move aside.

And--Sothis bless--she does. She steps aside and starts quickly walking away, as if she had somewhere incredibly important to go.

Knowing Lysithea, it was either the library or the classroom.

Byleth turns back to their door. Finally. They open the door and step inside.

“What was that?!” Sothis immediately explodes. “Are you daft? You should be more thankful to those students that love you so much. I certainly cannot fathom why they do, with you acting like this!”

Byleth winces. She really could be so loud. “Why is that?” they ask, sitting on their bed.

Sothis stares at them in disbelief. “Ugh!” she says, throwing up her hands. “Your indifference! That poor girl! You better do something nice for her.”

“Oh.” Byleth says, pausing for a moment to mentally replay the conversation. Had they been too indifferent? Normally they always came across as a little indifferent--was that time somehow too much? They should fix that.

“I’ll get her a gift.” Byleth decides.

Sothis sighs. “I suppose that is better than nothing.” she says.

Byleth sits down on their bed, taking off their boots. “Yeah. Maybe some flowers.” Byleth says thoughtfully. They were starting to have quite a large collection at this point, thanks to the efforts of their weekly gardening. “Maybe a lot of flowers.” The more of something there was, the more they liked it, right? At least, that’s how things were when it was just them and Jeralt. Some meat and beer was nice, but a lot of it was always a treat.

Byleth takes off their gloves.

“Oh? Are you done for the day, already?”

“What do you mean? It’s seven at night.” Byleth replies, taking off their armor. “I might as well do some reading before bed.”

Sothis tilts her head. “Do you really dislike the attention?”

“Not usually.” Byleth says, frowning. “But… in this case, yes.”

“Why?”

Byleth doesn’t look at her. “Because I killed someone.”

Sothis raises an eyebrow, waiting for Byleth to elaborate.

They don’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay--here's another chapter! Hope everyone had a happy holidays!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	17. Confessions

A knock wakes Byleth up from their sleep.

“Professor?” A voice outside asks. 

Byleth blinks blearily, before it registers whose voice was calling them. Ah. Edelgard.

“One second,” Byleth mumbles back, stumbling out of bed and glancing out the window. It was pitch dark outside--they wouldn’t be surprised if it was the middle of the night. What did she want? Was everything alright? They quickly throw on a shirt and some shorts, and open the door.

Edelgard stands on the other side, pristine as always. She didn’t look like she had something urgent, but she wasn’t the type of person to show her problems externally.

“Everything okay?” Byleth asks.

Edelgard shifts. “I was hoping I could speak with you. Walk with me?”

“Sure,” Byleth says. They weren’t wearing shoes, but that wouldn’t be a big deal. Almost everywhere in the monastery was paved.

Edelgard takes a second glance at their shoe-less feet, but makes no comment. She turns, starting to walk, and not particularly in any direction. Byleth follows after, before picking up their pace to walk alongside her. 

“Professor,” Edelgard begins, before pausing. “How is it? Wielding the Sword of the Creator?”

Ah. Small talk. “It’s nice.” Byleth admits. “It’s a very useful weapon.” They pause. “What are you doing up so late?”

Edelgard frowns, her mouth becoming a thin line. “I… was restless.” she says. “There’s times when I crave the outdoors, especially a fresh breeze.”

“I know how you feel.” Byleth says with a solemn nod. 

“You do?” Edelgard asks in disbelief, raising an eyebrow. “Sorry--I didn’t expect you to say that. I suppose I pictured you as a rugged mercenary, that was outdoors often.”

“Oh, I am a rugged mercenary.” Byleth says, their voice deadpan, but the corners of their mouth pulling up, just slightly. “...Wouldn’t someone who was outdoors often, crave it more?”

Edelgard blinks. She looks as though she hadn’t considered that. “I suppose so.” she says mildly, her voice not revealing her inner emotions, as usual. “Not for me.”

Byleth nods. “I get it.” they say. “The times I crave being outside are all times when things get too quiet.”

“Quiet?” Edelgard asks, cocking her head to the side.

Byleth shifts. “Yes.” they say slowly. “I…” They hesitate.

They’ve never talked about themself with anyone. Not really. Superficial things, but nothing about their past, or why they’d fall apart at times. Not even Sothis knew. 

But Edelgard would tell them her deepest secret. She would trust them with that. Why couldn’t they trust her? She wasn’t the type to use it against them.

“When I was young.” Byleth mumbles. They look away, too embarrassed to meet her eyes. “There were times when I… when Jeralt would leave for a job. And I’d be left alone. For Goddess knows how long. I never had the best sense of time.”

Edelgard’s eyes widen. “That couldn’t have been easy.” she says with a frown.

“It wasn’t.” Byleth says, stiffening up. How did others talk about their troubles? Even mentioning this made them feel as though they were reliving it. Their skin feels itchy, like they don’t belong in their body. “I felt like a ghost. Being outside made me feel like I wasn’t alone.” 

“You’re not alone, now.” Edelgard says. She puts a hand on their shoulder.

It was hard, grounding them. They no longer felt like an observer, watching themselves, but just Byleth, standing there. Barefoot.

They look at her, and it’s like looking at... Edelgard. Completely normal, in every way, except somehow they felt lighter.

Relieved.

Oh. They’re starting to understand why people talk about their problems.

“Thanks.” Byleth says quietly.

“Of course.” Edelgard says, and she removes her hand, leaving Byleth feeling strangely empty. “I appreciate you telling me. Sometimes you feel like a mystery, but I think I’m starting to understand you better.”

“Oh? Maybe I should quiz you.” Byleth teases.

Edelgard cracks a smile. “Ha! I don’t think I’d be good enough to pass.” she says. “Not yet, at least.” Her smile gets wider. “Is that a smile I see, Professor?”

“Is it?” Byleth asks, clearly smiling. They reach up and touch their face. Look at that. They were smiling!

“Are you really unaware?” Edelgard asks.

“That’s a bit blunt. But, yes.” they say.

Edelgard’s smile fades slightly. “Is that ever a problem for you? Not being able to tell your expressions, I mean.”

“No. It’s never been an issue.” Byleth says. “Granted, most of the time, I don’t make any sort of expression.”

“Oh, so you are aware!” Edelgard points out, letting out a small chuckle. 

Byleth nods. “Of course I am.” they say seriously, causing Edelgard to turn away and stifle another laugh.

“My apologies, Professor.” she says, quickly sobering up. “Ironically enough, I called you out to tell you something serious about myself, but… I feel as though the mood is inappropriate, now.”

Byleth frowns. “What do you mean? I’m always serious.” they say, their voice deadpan.

Edelgard looks at them for a long moment. “Is that an attempt at a joke? Or are you--actually, nevermind.” she says. She shakes her head as though she was disappointed in them, but a small smile lingers on her face.

“What did you want to tell me?” Byleth asks.

Her smile evaporates.

“The reason I crave fresh air…" she begins, looking ahead of herself. 

She falls silent for a moment, and Byleth doesn’t interrupt the silence. They stand there, and Byleth’s gaze drifts to a nearby tree, watching the breeze gently rustle the leaves. A few fall towards the ground.

Edelgard takes a breath, and begins. 

"The reason is because of what happened to my family. Do you remember what I told you about them?” Her voice is the same as always--no, if anything, slightly stronger. More determined.

“Yes.” Byleth says, and they start to frown. They already know what she was about to say, but it wouldn’t be any less tragic to hear the second time around.

She nods, and looks away from Byleth, up towards the sky. “We were actually kept underground, under the palace. Us--me, my siblings--we were all experiment subjects for a project to endow us with a Major Crest.” She takes in a slow breath. “I already possessed a Minor Crest, but most of my siblings bore no Crest at all. These experiments went on until only I was left.”

Edelgard looks at Byleth with a cool expression, as if distancing herself from the words she was saying. “Their experiment succeeded. Here I stand, Edelgard von Hresvelg.”

“That’s awful.” Byleth murmurs.

“It is.” Edelgard agrees. “All of them killed for this endeavor, and other innocent lives, as well.”

She closes her eyes for a moment, before opening them again, this time looking at Byleth with a fierce determination. “Let me show you the power of my second Crest.”

She holds her hand out, and The Crest of Flames shimmers above it. 

“The same crest as you. The day this Crest manifested for me, I swore an oath. An oath for my family, for the innocent lives that were sacrificed, that I would build a world where this kind of meaningless sacrifice can never be sanctioned. As emperor, I will change the world.”

Byleth nods, their face illuminated by the Crest. “I look forward to seeing the changes you’ll make.”

Edelgard puts her hand down. 

Without the light, the night seems that much darker. Byleth can barely see her face.

Edelgard speaks again, but her voice is softer than before. 

“I hope you will not be disappointed.”

\---

Byleth immediately falls asleep once they get back to their room.

They wake up the next morning, slowly standing up from their bed. They put on their clothes, and once they are dressed, they move to grab their notebook, to stash it in their coat, same as they do every day.

Byleth blinks, before rubbing their eyes. 

The notebook was not there.

“Sothis, where’s my notebook?” Byleth asks. They always put it on the same shelf--there was only one shelf in the room, anyway.

“Is it not on the same shelf you always place it?” Sothis asks, although she didn’t seem very invested in whether or not Byleth could find their book.

“No,” Byleth says with a frown. They kneel down, searching the floor, under the desk, under their bed. “Where is it?” they mutter. It’s where they kept their calendar, to keep up with monthly events. They also had a lot of notes there--not only on the students, but on future events.

Sothis yawns. “You are going to be late to class. You might have to search for your book, later.” she says.

Byleth hesitates. They stand up, throwing off the blankets and sheets from the bed, piling them on a chair. Not here, either.

Above, the clock tower of Garreg Mach gives its first ring.

“Damn it,” Byleth mutters. They had to go. 

\---

Class goes by the same as always, although looking at a certain student reminded Byleth of an item on their to-do list.

Sylvain. They needed to ask him about his brother.

Ideally, they would’ve asked him about Miklan before Rhea had assigned the class to kill him, but--better late than never.

“Sylvain, can we speak after class?” Byleth says.

Sylvain shoots a grin. “Ah, finally falling for me?”

“No.” Byleth says immediately. 

His grin doesn’t fade. “Joking, joking!” he says, and he looks away. The smile immediately melts off of his face.

He was a smart kid. No doubt he knew what Byleth was about to talk to them about. 

The class shuffles out, while Sylvain sits at his desk, still looking away. 

Byleth looks at him, waiting. They don’t mind if they have to wait. Whenever he’s ready.

There’s a painfully long bout of silence before Sylvain looks at Byleth. “Well? What did you want to talk about?”

“Do you want to kill your brother?” Byleth asks bluntly.

Sylvain blinks. “Uh…” he says, taking a moment to gather his wits from the direct hit. “Well, I’ve never woken up one day and suddenly felt the urge to kill him.” he says noncommittally.

“Would you prefer if he was alive?” Byleth asks.

Sylvain looks away again, shifting in his seat. “Look, Lady Rhea has given him a death sentence. What I want doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.” Byleth insists.

Sylvain looks back at them, staring for a moment. His expression hardens. “Then, yes. It’s about time he got what’s coming to him.” he says, bristling. 

“So you want him dead?”

Sylvain glares. “Can’t you take a hint? Yes, I want him dead!” His voice isn’t raised, but it’s harsh, cold. “He’s been nothing but horrible to me for my whole life!” he pauses. “Are you satisfied now?”

Byleth looks at him for a moment. “Okay. We’ll kill him, then.”

Sylvain’s expression falters for a moment, before looking away with a sigh. “Do what you have to do.”

Byleth pauses, trying--and overall failing--to read his expression. What did he want? They still couldn’t tell if he actually meant it, or if he was just acting like this to avoid being hurt. They really should’ve asked him this before Rhea had ordered them to kill Miklan. At this point, it would be almost impossible to squeeze the truth out of Sylvain.

“If I could save your brother, would you want me to?” Byleth asks.

Sylvain looks at Byleth for a moment, his expression a mix of suspicion and disbelief. “I don’t see how that’s possible. But, sure--if you want to stick your neck out for that scumbag, it’s on you.”

Byleth looks at him for another moment, squinting their eyes. They’ll take that as: yes, he would prefer his brother to live.

They could do that, although there was really only one solution for that. They’d have to give Miklan the same fate as Jeritza. Send him away to work for the Empire. It made sense--even Edelgard had admitted he had certain strengths. And, he had been able to keep up the whole bandit gig for quite a while.

Until Byleth stepped in, of course. He really had been unlucky. But, not this time. This time, it looks like he had won the Goddess' favor.

Besides, he probably hated Crests enough to easily fall in line with Edelgard’s ideals. That would take him off the playing field long enough to…

Well, to leave him alive, at least. After that, it was up to Miklan if he wanted to live, and maybe Sylvain if he wanted to help his brother.

“Professor? Are we done here?” Sylvain asks, as he starts standing up.

“Huh?” Byleth blinks, as they’re pulled from their thoughts. “Oh. Yes. Be on your way.”

Sylvain wastes no time in getting out. It’s almost comical how quickly he grabs his stuff and books it out of there.

 _He seems like a lot of trouble_ , Sothis comments. _So? Will you kill his brother? Or spare him?_

“Currently? The plan’s to spare him.” Byleth mutters.

 _How soft hearted._ Sothis says derisively. _Yet, you killed that man in the library with no hesitation._

“He was my enemy.” Byleth says simply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, life's been busy. I still have a few more chapters in draft, so expect more upcoming!
> 
> Also man... I can't wait to get far enough to tag the side relationships cause it's gonna get wild.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	18. Back to Normal

Byleth exits the classroom, only a few minutes after Sylvain had departed.

“Ah, Professor?” Hubert says, and Byleth nearly jumps, as they quickly glance to where Hubert had been standing--right next to the doorway. No doubt trying to scare them on purpose.

“Oh. Hubert.” they say. What was it this time? Another threat? “Do you need me for something?”

Hubert folds his arms, a slightly amused expression lingering on his face, savoring their surprise. “Yes. I was hoping you’d help me pick up a few provisions from the market.” he says.

“Oh.” Byleth says again. That was new. Hubert hadn’t asked favors like this from them--at least not until the war started. “What are we running out of?”

Hubert tilts his head. “Papers, ink, and I’ve been asked to pick up chickpeas while I’m out.”

Basic supplies. It made sense. Usually, the students took turns running errands like this, and Byleth hadn’t dealt with it, at all. In fact, they didn’t really pay attention to the stock of items, at all, except for weapons and cooking ingredients. Nothing so mundane as ink.

“Sure, I can come with you.” Byleth says. Why did Hubert want them to come along? Maybe he also wanted to talk with them about something. Or, maybe he needed help carrying some things? He never had much muscle. That could be it.

“Many thanks, Professor.” Hubert says, a thin smile on his lips. “Outside the market, there’s a quiet picnic area. Let’s meet there.”

Byleth nods. “Sure.” they say again. They haven’t really been out into the market, but it couldn’t be too hard to find.

“Good.” Hubert says. “I’ll see you there at five in the morning.”

“Five?” Byleth blurts. Goddess, Hubert sounded like Jeralt. Was he secretly an early riser?

Hubert tilts his head again. “Is there a problem, Professor?”

Byleth sighs. “No.” he says. It was probably better to get back into waking up early, anyway.

“ _Wonderful_ ,” Hubert says, rather ominously. He turns to walk away, pivoting on his heel. Despite it not being there yet, Byleth can clearly see the majestic _swoosh_ of the cape that he would wear in the future. It perfectly fitted the dramatics that Hubert so often subtly used. 

Byleth turns around, as well, resisting the urge to turn around as dramatically as Hubert had.

Probably for the best, considering that they could see about three of the students the moment they turned around. Ferdinand and Sylvain, were talking under a tree, and, although Byleth couldn’t hear the conversation, Ferdinand seemed to be making rather animated gestures.

And, even further down, was Edelgard, looking directly at Byleth.

Oh yeah, they’re _really_ glad they didn’t do anything stupidly dramatic.

Edelgard walks up to them. “Professor,” she greets pleasantly. “I have something I want to ask you--mind if we go somewhere a bit more private?”

“That’s fine.” Byleth says.

Edelgard shoots them a ghost of a smirk. “Apologies that we didn’t simply stumble upon each other in the middle of the night. That would’ve made eavesdroppers a non-issue.”

“Heh,” Byleth gives a short, dry laugh. “Yeah, it’s funny how we keep running into each other, that way.” Was it fate? Luck? Or was Byleth just up at night, way too much?

Edelgard stares for a moment, before a slight smile breaks on her face. “I don’t think I’ve seen you laugh before.” she says, as she leads Byleth to a small, empty corner of the gardens. 

Byleth wonders what to say to that. “Is it?”

Edelgard doesn’t answer, instead turning to them and taking a step closer. “Professor, I have to ask--about the attack on your life.” She pauses. “Are you comfortable talking about this?”

“Ah,” Byleth says, a little taken aback. They really should’ve prepared for Edelgard asking about it. “Yes. Go ahead.”

Edelgard nods solemnly, all of the humor gone from her expression. “The man that attacked you--what did he look like? The students weren’t able to see the body.”

Hm. Byleth pauses for a moment. Should they tell her? She’d probably recognize the person instantly by the description--if not specifically Solon, then a member of Those Who Slither. But… what was the harm? Maybe it would give her an iota of relief to know one of those bastards had been killed. Or, maybe it would put her on edge, that one of her allies had been killed.

No way to know, except to say it out loud. “He was very pale, and had a huge forehead. And, um, long white hair and long robes.” Byleth pauses for a moment, feeling like they were forgetting something. “Oh! And one of his eyes had a tattoo around it, lines coming away from the eye.” they add.

Edelgard’s brow furrows. “I see.” she says.

“Is that familiar to you?” Byleth asks.

“No,” Edelgard says, folding her arms. “In fact, I’ve never heard of someone like that, before. Can you tell me about the attack?”

She was so good at lying. How long had she been doing this? Byleth was slightly jealous of her skill, but less so of where it stemmed from. “I was heading to the library, and he just started attacking me.”

“Was anyone else around?”

“No.” Byleth answers. 

“Hm,” Edelgard says. “This is worrying. At this point, it’s impossible to know if it was someone that was specifically after you, or if you were simply unlucky.”

“Either way, I’ll be fine.” Byleth says. “Don’t worry.”

Edelgard purses her lips. “Be careful, Professor. I feel as though multiple interests are all here at Garreg Mach. We don’t want to be caught up in the wrong ones.”

_A little too late for that_ , Byleth thinks. “I’ll keep that in mind.” they say, instead.

\---

Their next item on their daily to-do list was to find Lysithea. Sothis’ words had stuck out in their mind, and the more they thought about it, the more they realized that they really should apologize to her about not being more attentive. Or, something like that. They’d figure it out as they went along, as they always did when it came to social situations. And, miraculously, they somehow turned out pretty okay.

It takes no time at all to find Lysithea. As usual, she’s in one of two places--the classroom, or the library--and Byleth finds her in the latter.

Byleth hadn’t visited the library since they killed Solon, and it was almost eerie how nothing had changed. The body was gone, and students were reading as if nothing had happened. No traces of the body, or the blood.

“Hi, Linhardt.” Byleth greets the boy as they pass by, but--once again--he was too engrossed in his reading to respond. Byleth had never particularly been offended by his lack of reply, but by now they expected it. They walk past him, before coming up to Lysithea.

“Oh, hello Professor.” Lysithea greets, but her eyes don’t move from the pages. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Byleth shifts, pulling a daffodil that they had grown. “I have a present for you.” 

Lysithea looks up, and she looks at the flower in a moment of confusion, before accepting the flower. “Oh. Thank you, Professor.” she says, before pausing. “What’s this for?” 

Byleth pauses for a long moment. Oh. They hadn’t thought to do or say anything else, besides simply giving it to her. “It’s… for you.” they eventually get out.

Lysithea frowns, but pockets the flower. “Well, thank you, Professor.” she says, with a grateful nod.

Byleth nods in reply, feeling as though the interaction had gone at least somewhat successfully. “Thanks for joining my class.” they say. They knew that this time, they could probably handle Jeritza, but it would be reassuring to have Lysithea in their class, anyway. 

“Of course.” Lysithea, giving a small nod. “You haven’t been disappointing during class. So… good work.”

It felt weird to be complimented like that, especially from Lysithea. “Thanks.” Byleth says, feeling strangely proud. Not many people tended to acknowledge that they had become a pretty good professor. It was nice to hear.

Lysithea gives one more nod, before turning back to her book. Okay. Conversation over.

Byleth turns to leave, before someone gives a tug at their jacket. 

“Psst, Teach.” Claude says, before waving them over to follow him. 

Byleth complies, and they walk to a table at the corner. Claude and pulls out a chair, but instead sits down on the table, putting his feet on the chair. 

“So,” he begins. “Is it weird? Being back here?”

Byleth blinks. Back where? The library?

Ah, wait. The attack. “It is a little weird.” Byleth admits neutrally. They want to tell Claude the truth, but not yet. Right now, they would just sound crazy. Besides, he hadn’t seen the body. The only one who had seen the body was--

Jeralt. Hm. Maybe they could tell him, but they were reluctant to do so. They didn’t want Jeralt interfering, or--even worse--doing something that would end up putting him in danger. They didn’t want--

No. He wasn’t going to die. No matter what. 

“You do seem a little out of it.” Claude comments.

Byleth blinks. Right. The middle of the conversation was not the best time to plot. “Maybe.” they say.

Claude folds his arms, squinting at Byleth.. “You’re so hard to read, Teach.” he complains. “I thought for sure you’d start investigating this guy that attacked you, but you seem so… uninterested.” He pauses, tilting his head. “Did you already know him…?”

Goddess. He was way too sharp. And they weren’t nearly as smart of a liar as either him or Edelgard. “No.” Byleth says. “I am curious. I’m just… not sure where to start.”

“Me either.” Claude mutters, rubbing his chin. “And, isn’t it funny that nobody has seen Tomas, since?”

Byleth looks back at Claude, their expression neutral. Thank the goddess for their lack of expression. “Maybe he killed Tomas before getting to me?” they fake a guess.

“Hm. But then, where’s the body?” he muses.

“I don’t know.” Byleth admits.

Claude sighs, before his expression goes somber. “I kind of hope Tomas is still out there, somewhere. You know, he always was able to find the best books. Maybe there was a restricted part of the library that he could pull from?” he lets out another sigh. “Plus he’d always nag at me to stop sitting on the table.”

“Maybe you could sit on a chair to honor his memory.” Byleth comments.

Claude stares at them. “If that was a joke, Teach, you have a sick sense of humor.” he says, but Byleth catches him fighting back a smile.

Nevertheless, he slides off the table and sits down in a chair. “I’m surprised they even let us in here.”

“Rhea must’ve insisted that the monastery go on like normal.” Byleth says.

Claude raises an eyebrow. “I think you mean _Archbishop_ Rhea.” he teases, clearly amused. “Hey, Teach--so, you’re not religious at all, right?”

Byleth shakes their head, although their thoughts drift to Sothis. Did it count as religion when they knew the Goddess was real, and alive?

“Hm,” Claude hums in thought, stroking his chin again. 

Byleth sits down in the chair next to him. “What do you think of Edelgard?” they ask. “Now that you’ve fought alongside her.”

He looks over at Byleth. “She’s different from what I expected,” he admits. “A lot more open-minded.”

“I think you two actually are very similar.” Byleth says, leaning on the table. “Similar goals, even.”

Claude cracks a small smile. “Maybe.” he says evenly, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s a good liar, but Byleth had gotten even better at reading him.

Byleth pauses, suppressing a large sigh. At this rate, neither of the two house leaders would ever open up to anyone. “Well, I’m not sure about your goals,” Byleth begins, “But Edelgard was telling me about how she wanted to end discrimination in Fódlan.”

“Edelgard did?” Claude asks, his eyes narrowing. “Really?” 

“Yes, she was saying she wanted equality for everyone, regardless of social class or nationality.” Byleth adds. Half of it was a lie, but it wasn’t really something she would be against, either.

Claude stares at Byleth, dumbfounded. He opens his mouth, before closing it again. “She said that?” he asks, gaping. 

“More or less.” Byleth says with a shrug, before pausing. “I agree with her, actually.”

Claude closes his mouth, looking ahead of himself. He runs a hand through his hair. “Edelgard?” he mutters quietly, before tapping his pencil on the table, then glancing back at Byleth for a moment. “You really think that? Can you explain a bit more?”

Ah. This was never their favorite part. Edelgard or Claude had always been the ones spewing their ideals, with Byleth just nodding in agreement besides them. Vocalizing it themself was… well, how did Claude say it? Something about tearing out Fódlan’s throat? That seemed a bit too specific for Byleth to say, themself.

“I’m, uh, not super eloquent with these things,” Byleth begins sheepishly, “But I think people from all countries should feel the same. I’ve talked to Cyril and Dedue, and it seems as though both of them face discrimination in Fódlan.” It was a bit of a lie--they hadn’t talked to Cyril or Dedue about those experiences yet, at least in this timeline. “I’ve also talked with Raphael, and Leonie about their experiences--and, my own--and…” 

And? What was their thesis, here? 

“It’s not good.” Byleth says plainly.

Claude waits a moment. When he realizes Byleth wasn’t going to explain further, he lets out a laugh. “Hear, hear, Teach.” he says, shaking his head. “You know, I’m almost jealous of how innocent you are.”

“Innocent?” Byleth asks incredulously.

Claude leans his elbows on the table. “You aren’t affected by these social issues--you’re learning about them from a complete stranger’s perspective. It’s like you grew up completely isolated from society.”

“Oh.” Byleth says. Their mind drifts to the house in the woods. A sword. Mercenary jobs with no context. “I guess I was. In a sense. I mean, I never had much money.”

Claude gives a small nod. “That’s true. I guess I don’t really know much about the commoner experience, myself.” he pauses a moment, before glancing over at them, his smile fading. “Do you think that was a good thing? That you’ve been so isolated from society?”

“No.” Byleth replies immediately. “I feel like a stranger in the place I was born. Talking and relating to people is hard. I don’t know any social cues.” And they had too many moments where they felt like a stranger in their own body. Maybe they were, considering the whole Sothis thing.

Claude’s brows furrow. “That sounds… rough.” he says. “But, hey--you’re not alone anymore, Teach.”

Byleth looks up, meeting his eyes. “Yeah.” they say. “Neither are you.”

His eyes widen for a slight moment, before his expression softens. “Yeah. You got that right.” he says, shooting them a smile. 

His expression was bright and warm, like the sun. Byleth had already been defrosted by Claude before, but it was nice to see that smile again. 

“Well,” Claude says, standing up and interrupting the moment. “I have to ask Edelgard a few things. See you later.” He pauses a moment. “Thanks, Professor.” he says, before giving a small wave and walking off.

Byleth watches him, feeling a sense of relief. They weren’t sure if it would change anything, but it was a start. And--maybe, more importantly--they wanted Claude to know he wasn’t alone. Not this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never forget... this is a Claude appreciation fic
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	19. Chapter 19

Byleth leans over plants in the greenhouse, deep in thought. There were still too many threads hanging, threads that could lead to war. What else could they do? If only they could actually create something that felt like real _change_ \--

“Good evening, Professor.” Dimitri greets them suddenly. 

Byleth starts, turning around to see the Prince--who was giving a sweet smile and a small wave towards them. 

“Apologies for startling you. How are you doing, Professor?”

How are they doing...? Was this about the Solon attack or…? Oh. Right. The last time they spoke was the night at the training grounds. They weren’t sure which thing he was asking about, so they decided to go with a general answer. “I’m doing better, thanks.” Byleth reassures him.

Dimitri nods, a look of relief passing over his face. “That is good to hear.” he admits. “You seemed very upset, the other night.”

Byleth nods in return. “It happens, sometimes.” they admit with a shrug.

Dimitri frowns. “Still… I hope you might find some peace.”

Ah, Dimitri. What a sweet boy, almost to a fault. If only he would take care of himself half as much as he cared about others. 

“What about you? How have you been?” Byleth asks.

“Very well, thank you.” he says with a smile. An automatic answer. The bags under his eyes told enough of the truth. But not enough for Byleth to confront him about it.

They hesitate for a moment.

“Dimitri,” they begin, “How would you feel if a lot of things changed suddenly?”

Dimitri blinks, his blue eyes round and large. His face looked so innocent, despite his life being anything but. “Why, it really depends, Professor.” he says, the edges of his mouth creasing into a frown. “There’s a lot of different types of changes.”

“True enough.” Byleth agrees. They pause for a moment. What’s the worst that could happen, if they said something completely radical? Dimitri--although he would care--wouldn’t do anything about it. Not when he was so busy with his own business. “Dimitri--do you believe in the Goddess?” Byleth asks bluntly.

Dimitri looked completely gobsmacked by the question. “Do I--? Well, of course, Professor. I am the heir to the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus.”

“So, is that what Dimitri believes? Or what the heir believes?” Byleth asks, raising an eyebrow. Come to think of it, they’ve never asked him this question, before. Or, really talked to him about religion, at all.

Dimitri folds his arms. “I am both.” he says. “The prince and the man. I do not have the luxury of personal preference when it comes to subjects such as this.” He pauses. “Please do not misunderstand. Unlike other nobles, this is not a political question, for me. Rather… it’s a statement of fact.”

Byleth nods slowly, only half understanding what he meant. Statement of fact? That seemed pretty sad, honestly.

Wait. This wasn’t what they wanted to originally talk about, at all. They had just gotten sidetracked by their own curiosity. 

“Thanks for answering.” Byleth says, giving a short pause. “By change, I mean… what if the Church of Seiros was no more?” they ask. “Not the religion itself, but the institution.”

Dimitri’s eyes widen once more, and he puts a hand on his chin in thought. “A disassembly of the church, as an institution? I am not sure if I can comment on this without it being considered heresy.”

“It’s hard to imagine Fodlan without Rhea, isn’t it?” Byleth says thoughtfully. In fact, it was pretty easy for them to imagine something like that. They had only known Rhea for a few years. But, they figured a question would pose something of an interesting thought experiment for those who actually knew about the world.

He pauses for a moment. “I… suppose.” he mutters.

The two of them stay like that for a moment longer--Byleth leaning over plants, and Dimitri deep in though, until the Garreg Mach bell tower rings above them. 

Dimitri nearly jumps. “Ah! Apologies, Professor. I must go.” he says, sounding very apologetic indeed. “Another time.” he quickly adds, before heading off.

Byleth watches him leave, a small frown on their face. They never can be sure how much to tell him. Even if Claude and Edelgard start working together, if Rhea decided that Edelgard and Claude were heretical, Dimitri would side with her. Especially if he learned that Edelgard had been working with Those Who Slither in the Dark.

Not that it was just a little ding on her personality. It was a valid complaint, and one that Byleth was still struggling with coming up with an answer to resolve it. That would be the biggest obstacle--they needed to figure out how to get rid of the Slithers. If Byleth had power, or an army, they could march to Shambhala themself. But they didn’t. 

Leaking the information, the location of the Slithers to Dimitri… well, it was one possibility. But Byleth refused to let Dimitri become a weapon. Not this time. He would neither be the lonely figure at the monastery, nor the pawn on the Talitean Plains.

Still, that left the question--how could they help Dimitri? Stopping the war, of course, but that would be the hardest thing to achieve. If only there was a way to make him better off, happier in the short term, in a way that addressed his underlying problems. If only there was some kind of doctor for the mind.

The only other thing they could think of was giving Dimitri the answers that he was looking for. The answers about the Tragedy of Duscur. In the timeline where Byleth sided with Dimitri, he never needed them. He was forced to move on, in order to lead the army, and, later, the Kingdom. But--what if he found those answers sooner?

Answers… Despite having lived the past six years three times, they still weren’t sure about a few things. It was a good thing they were meeting up with Hubert tomorrow--they’d throw a few ideas at him.

_Are you done thinking?_ Sothis asks impatiently. _Care to share?_

“I didn’t come up with anything good.” Byleth admits, their voice quiet enough to not seem crazy to passersby. 

Sothis gives a long sigh. 

Maybe they could get some further insight from Hubert. If anyone, he most knew how to think like the Slithers.

\---

Five in the morning came hard. At the fifth ring of the clock above Garreg Mach, Byleth jolted out of bed and ran out of their room in a hurry. If they were fast enough, they wouldn’t be too late--and, if there was anything that Byleth had, it was the stamina to run for a long time.

They dart to the marketplace, the sun barely lighting the morning. Oddly enough, the market was almost bare. Or--maybe that was normal this early in the morning? Byleth certainly had never come by before eight.

Where were they supposed to meet Hubert? A picnic area? They’ve never been there before--they hope it’s not too far. They can only imagine the expression Hubert would give them if they were too late.

They wander for a bit, looking around. Picnic area, picnic area… Nothing stood out to them. Only empty stalls and trees. In one direction led to housing and the town itself, but they figure that wasn’t the right way.

“Do you see anything?” Byleth whispers, deeply hoping that Sothis was listening, and they weren’t standing there talking to themself.

_What about over there?_ Sothis replies, pointing at a haphazard path partially blocked off by bushes.

Oh. They hadn’t noticed. It barely even looked like a path. Byleth follows the small trail, almost claustrophobic as the foliage pushed in around them. They step forward, until the trees clear, and a small area with a few picnic benches amidst the grass.

“Huh. Never knew this was here.” Byleth mutters. “I wonder how--” Wait. Something was wrong. Where was Hubert? It sounded like--

Time had stopped, automatically. As it did, when they were about to die.

Four arrows point at them, two at their head, one at their neck, and one at their heart.

_Why! It seems like that boy is not all bark and no bite, after all!_ Sothis says, and despite her words, she sounded incredibly annoyed. _Well? Bring us back, and make sure to punish your student for bad behavior._ she adds with a hiss.

And they do, pulling time back, further back, before they had stepped into the off-beaten path. 

What should they do? Confront the assassins? Or find Hubert? Where was he, anyway?

“He would want to make sure I’m dead,” Byleth mutters. “He has to be around here, somewhere.”

_With these trees? He could be anywhere._

“No, he wouldn’t get too close.” Byleth resists the urge to start pacing. They couldn’t look suspicious, not yet. Not until they figure out where Hubert was.

Or…

Or they could just try their luck. They had quite a few pulses saved up, anyway.

Byleth darts into the nearest brush.

Sothis starts swearing. _What are you doing?!_ she protests. _Do you want to die?_

“I won’t die.” Byleth says, as if it were an immutable fact.

And, it was.

They tear through the trees. Ah. One archer spotted--who, unfortunately, notices Byleth at the same time.

But they had still had a few seconds of advantage. Before he has a chance to react, Byleth quickly closes the distance between them, grabbing the assassin by the neck, pressing their finger up towards his throat, hard.

No hard feelings. But they weren’t going to be the one to die.

The archer gives a yelp, and Byleth gives a swift kick in the groin before tossing him towards the general direction of the picnic area.

They turn, rushing through the brush again. Hubert had to be somewhere, and their first guess was the perimeter of the picnic area. And, if they couldn’t find him--

Then, this would be their gift to him.

The second assassin must’ve heard the scuffle, and they were already running away from the scene. Byleth lets them go. If they were running away, it was likely to be a normal assassin, and not someone that hated them on a personal level. Not that Byleth had too many people like that. Yet.

Byleth pauses, and the area falls silent once more. They’re not sure how many assassins there were, or if Hubert was even nearby. They start skulking through the trees, looking for anyone.

With no results. The area was completely cleared out. If Hubert had been here, he was gone, now. And, if he hadn’t, then…

Byleth had no idea. They weren’t good at thinking of these kinds of dirty ploys, themself. It was even harder to reverse engineer Hubert’s plan.

_Well, this was a waste of time,_ Sothis says, although her voice still bubbled with annoyance. _Should we turn back? Confront that boy at the monastery, if he dare return to class?_

Byleth shifts. _Would_ Hubert show up to class? Byleth had the feeling that it would get very hard to talk with him alone, after this. The problem was, they needed to talk with him alone. Why did he attack them? Was it because they killed Solon, or was it something else?

“Should I go back to before I sprung the trap?” Byleth whispers. It was so nice to have Sothis back--someone to throw their stupid ideas against, and see what stuck. Especially since Sothis was so critical. The house leaders later became people that Byleth would brainstorm with, but they mostly went along with whatever Byleth came up. 

_Hmm…_ Sothis mutters. _On one hand, you would have the element of surprise on your side. But… on the other hand, this shows him you are not someone who can easily be messed with._

Byleth nods. Admittedly, they did like the second idea a tad bit more. “I’ll stay in this time, then.” they say. It’s not like they killed anyone. Probably.

Still, they shouldn’t waste time. They make their way back to the entrance of the path, and head back towards the monastery.

_You should have used your dagger,_ Sothis laments.

“I really only use that for hunting.” Byleth says, doing a good job of hiding their embarrassment. In truth, they had simply forgotten about it. They keep walking, backtracking all the way back to the monastery.

It was still quiet, and the time was still earlier than six. “Guess I have a lot of time to kill,” they mutter, making a beeline for their favorite place to kill him. Byleth walks over to the fishing pier, borrowing a rod on the way. They plop down and cast out their line.

_So, now we wait._ Sothis mutters.

Byleth nods. They didn’t mind. They were an expert at waiting.

\---

Three hours and a pile of fish later, Byleth stands up. Finally--it was time to head to class. They drop the fish off at the kitchen, and head towards the classroom.

“G’morning, Teach.” Claude says with a wave. He was standing outside of his own classroom, with Hilda right next to him. 

“Hi, Professor.” Hilda greets with a bright smile, before she pauses, the smile faltering. “Um, Professor? You _kind of_ smell like fish..” 

Byleth looks down at their clothes. “Oh.” they say. Well, now it was too late to bathe, or even change their clothes.

Claude gives a chuckle. “We should really thank you, Teach. I’m sure you’re single handedly feeding the monastery with how much you fish.”

“Maybe,” Byleth says, rubbing the back of their head. “I have to go to class now. See you.” they add, giving a small wave before heading to the Black Eagle classroom.

Their eyes scan the room, searching for one particular student--Hubert. To no avail. Only the usual early arrivals were there--Ferdinand, Lysithea, and Petra. Hubert wasn’t there. 

“Good morning, Professor.” Lysithea greets, and Byleth gives a distracted nod in return.

Byleth stands at the front of the class, looking out the window expectantly. Was he coming? Which direction would he come from? Would he come with Edelgard, or alone? Byleth waits anxiously, although they’re not totally sure what they would do when he arrived. Not much, at least not until class was over. It’s not like they could simply lunge at him, right then and there.

They weren’t planning to attack him, anyway. They’d very much prefer him alive--as they did for all of the students at the monastery. 

Five more minutes passed like molasses, and Edelgard walks in the classroom, Hubert at her side--as always.

“Good morning,” Byleth greets, almost aggressively.

“Good morning, Teacher.” Edelgard replies pleasantly.

Hubert simply shoots them a thin smile. It wasn’t enough for Byleth to know what he was thinking.

They shift again. There was no point in worrying, but the worry couldn’t help but creep at the back of their mind. If only they could get him to say something, maybe it could give them a little insight on his thoughts.

Byleth glances at the chalkboard, an idea popping in their head. “For this week’s chores--Hubert, Ferdinand, you two will be tending to the stables.”

Ferdinand perks up. “You will not be disappointed, Professor.” he says.

Hubert shoots a sharp look at Ferdinand, before letting out a sigh. “With this fool? I can’t imagine this will provide the best results.” he says. It’s the same tone he always takes when talking with Ferdinand, although his voice was slightly less harsh than normal. Tired, almost.

Byleth stares at him. Hubert meets their look, and shoots them a slight smirk.

They open their mouth to say something, but the clock above Garreg Mach starts to chime.

Fine. They would deal with this after class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I was in that winter storm in TX! No electricity for 5 days straight, and no running water for 2. We're back to normal now, but still... crazy world.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are <3


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